


The Devil Is A Holy Man

by CoyoteGhost



Series: Devotion [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Gabriel is a good partner, He just wants what’s best for his man, Interrogation, Jack most certainly had a crush on McCree, M/M, McReyes is the main ship, Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Unrequited Love, a little bit of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoyoteGhost/pseuds/CoyoteGhost
Summary: Because really, it didn't matter to Gabriel (or anyone else) if Jesse had been with them for three years or thirty. There was no fucking way he would send McCree back to Deadlock Gorge.OrThanks to Talon, Deadlock returns with a vengeance and it’s Jesse’s job to stop it. Despite it all, Gabriel can’t help but wonder where Jesse’s loyalties actually lie.





	1. Of Wars and Their Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the longest thing I’ve done like ever??? BUT LIKE, IM SUPER PROUD. I hope you like it too because my fingers are broken from typing now (jk but really tho)

When the question came, it felt like an axe dangling over everyone's heads. It was too sharp, too heavy, too perfectly poised in preparation to make Blackwatch splinter.

 

Because really, it didn't matter to Gabriel (or anyone else) if Jesse had been with them for three years or thirty. There was no fucking way he would send McCree back to Deadlock Gorge.

 

Nope, nada, no chance in hell.

 

It was a mission that, of course, had been a long time coming. Deadlock had never been truly erased, not really. The only thing Blackwatch could do was strategically strike the gang when and where they could, hoping to knock them down and beat them out of existence.

 

It could work for a while, but doing that over and over again was just a waste of resources. Evntually they would need to strike hard. The only problem was that they could never exactly pinpoint the location of their base of operation.

 

They could only target their payloads and customers, occasionally being able to find temporary bases. It just seemed liked Deadlock had no permanent settlements. For all Blackwatch knew, maybe they were peripatetic drifters.

 

Of course, they could've asked Jesse for any coordinates he knew, or if there even were any, but they never did for a variety of reasons.

 

One, if they had asked him in the beginning (when all of the information was actually still relevant to their goals and missions), they had a snowball's chance in hell of actually _getting_ that answer. That eighteen-turning-nineteen year old boy would’ve died first before spilling his guts.

 

Two, Jesse never talked about Deadlock.

 

Ever.

 

There had been exactly two times when he talked of his gang; once, in the very beginning, when Jesse mentioned how his old boss explained Deadeye, and the other time being when Angela had drugged him out of his mind (that had been a particularly rough mission, and it was better to keep Jesse sedated in order to keep him from further injuring himself). Even then, it was only a passing comment, nothing beyond a vague reference to how shitty McCree's past medical care was.

 

Lastly, Gabriel really didn't even think to ask him as time went on, simply because Deadlock stayed quiet and irrelevant. When the activity had died down, their assignment had basically been swept under the rug, hidden away in a filing cabinet and locked up for good measure (if Jesse hadn't had joined Blackwatch, it might've seemed like the mission had never existed at all).

 

Likewise, Gabriel kept his questions and curiosity under wraps, and he asked everyone else to do the same; no need to reopen healing wounds, right?

 

There also might've been the _small_ chance that Reyes didn't ask because, after all of this time, after all of the pain and the hardships and struggles, Jesse was happy. Completely, utterly happy, and why would Gabriel want to ruin that?

 

McCree had finally come into his own as a respected agent of Blackwatch. He had finally started to realize that there was a life outside of being shattered and broken and abused.

 

He now had a true home.

 

He had a life with a loving family, or whatever name Jesse would call Jack (thank God he and McCree were getting along now), the Amaris, Reyes, and basically all of Blackwatch.Most importantly, McCree still had, and always would have, Gabriel, walking right beside him every step of the way. There were no road blocks too big and no problems too small to keep him from helping Jesse.

 

But now, Deadlock was on the rise once again, selling warheads and ammunition and heavy artillery, and Gabriel wasn't as confident as he should've been when it came to his decisions on the matter. The mission details were still in their preliminary phases, so this was yet to be an official problem. Hell, they hardly information to _form_ this mission at all.

 

That brought up a few pressing issues. What was once considered peripheral information had suddenly turned into something vital, a life-or-death sum of knowledge.

 

Under normal circumstances, Jesse probably would've been way more than willing to spill his guts, giving anything and everything that he could in order to assist any given assignment, but this was Deadlock, and no amount of drugs or alcohol had ever been able to circumvent the lock and key that McCree kept on his past.

 

Gabriel _knew_ that there was a reason Jesse kept everything to himself. Gabriel didn’t know the reason itself, just that there was one. Jesse wasn't a private man like Reyes, not on the surface, but the kid had a way of making you feel like you knew more than you actually did. It didn't change the fact that the past was painful, though, and that bringing it up might not be worth the risk.

 

Thus, Gabriel was at a crossroads.

 

Should McCree even know about this? Should he be told of his previous home's conquest? If Reyes _did_ tell him, would he want to join the mission to bring his old gang down? Gabriel would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought about what would happen if Jesse _did_ go, if he was reunited with his old pack. Would three years of Blackwatch be able to win over a lifetime of Deadlock?

 

Too many questions, not enough answers.

 

In all honesty, Gabriel wasnt sure what to expect with Jesse, but as much as he wanted to push this problem to the side (which, quite frankly, he had done for a considerable amount of time), he had known from the very beginning that Deadlock would return at some point.

 

Again, it had only slipped Reyes's mind because the gang had been crippled by Blackwatch's interference, and it would seemingly take a while for them to return to their former glory. Apparently, though, he was wrong.

 

Gabriel was never wrong, not on things like this.

 

It was that fact that made Overwatch suspicious. Morrison knew that Gabriel had his shit down to a science at this point, and for him to be wrong about when some lowlife, low-funded criminal organization would spring back up? It was either a freak accident or a sure sign of something awful.They naturally assumed the latter.

 

Because of that, Blackwatch had been asked to dig deeper into the sudden boom of transactions that Deadlock was dealing out. They had to make sure it wasn't something that couldn't be taken care of with a swift, well-placed attack.

 

Truthfully, they didn't know what they had expected to find, which is why it felt like a surprise sucker punch when they dug up info regarding the gang's collaboration with Talon of all people.

 

Last Overwatch had heard, after Blackwatch had taken Talon's last Deadlock-ordered weapons cache three years back (and subsequently picked up McCree), Talon had left the picture. Their suppliers were revealed and so they took their leave. Apparently the mass execution of Deadlock's elite had made an excellent warning message as well.

 

But all good things must come to an end, and when Jack had asked to talk to him privately, Gabriel suddenly knew that their era of ‘peace’ was over.

 

A large map and various newspaper reports, along with some live footage, greeted Reyes whenever he stepped into Morrison's office. Even from a distance, even without audio and a lack of details, he knew what he was seeing (it was hard not to know in his line of work). Shown in vivid detail was an heinous, indiscriminate war, and Gabriel had many doubts about the numbers of unharmed survivors.

 

"It started three days ago, in Santa Fe. Apparently it’s been nonstop since then.”

 

Jack was facing towards the wall where the images were being projected from the holo-vid (Reyes was thankful for the way the holographic screen took up almost half of the back wall. There was no way that much data could reasonably fit on a computer screen).

 

Jack’s voice was strained, and as Gabriel came to stand beside him, he couldn't help but think that if he weren't leaning back on his desk, Jack might topple over.

 

For a moment, Reyes took time to observe just what he was being shown. To the right side, newspaper stories and internet articles screamed out the same warnings. ' _New_ _Mexico:_ _What's_ _Happening_ _Now?_ ' read one of them. Two others said ' _The_ _Rebels_ _Return_ _To_ _Power_ ' and ' _Desert_ _Exodus_ ', no doubt coming from local sources.

 

The middle of the screen was the most eye-catching. Even with the grainy footage, Gabriel could see the painfully familiar scene of people and their land being razed and raided.

 

Town after town, home after home. There seemed to be no end.

 

Truthfully, there didn’t appear to be am exact target, either. The way the raids were being executed made little sense. It appeared as if some places were being spared, while others were being set ablaze or completely obliterated, all of which seemed to be done on a whim. Gabriel could recognize one thing, though, and it made him more than a little nauseous.

 

The way Deadlock was operating appeared to be something vaguely similar to some of Jesse's tactics; seemingly, disarmingly randomized but absolutely and unabatedly methodical. They weren't categorically identical, not by any means, but they _were_ overlapping to some degree.

 

Reyes supposed it made sense; it was when Blackwatch had attacked and killed the gang's elite that he had picked up McCree, so perhaps Jesse was a high ranking member himself?

 

If that were the case, then it was plausible that they would deploy some of the kid's tactics (and Gabriel highly doubted it would be the other way around. There could be no way Deadlock would think to do shit like this without Jesse having influenced them in some way).

 

Finally, to the left side, a large map of New Mexico presented itself with currently known statistics floating about. Aggressively blinking warning signs surrounded Taos, Tucumcari, Las Cruces, Albuquerque, and (of course) Santa Fe. Pictures and topographical information were present with each location, including the numbers of known casualties, civilians and Deadlock alike.

 

From Gabriel's perspective, this was complete and utter chaos. It was a true show of anarchy and ruthless conquest, and he had no doubts that Morrison felt the same way.

 

"Can you make anything out of this?" Jack asked. He was pinching the bridge of his nose like he often did under stress. "Because I can't, not with this little of information. They don’t have any known motives to do something like this, and like you said before, they were heavily crippled. I just don't understand this.”

 

Gabriel sighed, approaching the screen to get a better view. The current footage was from Tucumcari. From what he could tell, it was clip showing the very end of a raid, and according to the articles off to the side, this was a city that had apparently been spared from the worst of the attacks.

 

"What do you have so far?" Reyes asked, turning to look at the location's statistics. "I'll try and build on what you've got. It'll save us some time and effort."

 

With slow, easy steps, Jack joined him at the screen and pushed aside the video and the news pages, dragging the map to the center and blowing it up to a reasonable size. He selected and marked a few of the places on the map, ones that hadn't been swarmed by warning signs, and pointed to each of them as he spoke.

 

"Lincoln and Clayton have been wiped almost completely clean," Jack said, allowing Athena to highlight the locations as he went down the line, "And Gallup, Farmington, Clovis, and Hobbs might as well not have existed at all. Deadlock came through, picked the place clean, and then left in a hurry."

 

True to his word, as Athena pulled up images of the corresponding locations, Gabriel could see what Jack had meant.

 

Whatever civilization that had blossomed in those communities were burnt to a crisp. People were now beginning to slowly emerge from their hiding places or migrate back in from where they had fled, but there was almost nothing to come back to. Many parts of the towns had been destroyed, and so the citizens would be either forced to share the remaining places or leave once and for all.

 

Still, despite the tragedy, Gabriel could only think of one thing; why were some places burning, while others had been left alone? There had to be some logical answer.

 

Gabriel had seen raids before; of course he had. Hell, he had been a part of many, many raids himself. If he had to pinpoint a reason as to why Deadlock might’ve been doing this, it would’ve been for resources. They were out in the desert, and from how Jesse had looked when they had brought him in, it was very probable that food, or a lack thereof, was an ever-looming threat for the gang.

 

Still, it didn’t seem right that some places were being left alone while others were destroyed. It could’ve been personal vendettas, but that just didn’t sit well with Gabriel.

 

Tentatively, as if waiting for a backlash, Jack placed his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. He didn't look at Reyes. He just kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke, pushing the map back down to size and letting the video roll.

 

"I think we should bring Jess-"

 

"No."

 

Gabriel cut him off before he could even finish the sentence. Jack had no doubt expected that, and gave Reyes's shoulder a light squeeze before walking back to his desk. With a suddenly visible weariness, Morrison pulled himself up and sat on the desktop, running a hand through his freshly cropped hair.

 

"I know how you feel about this, Gabe. Trust me," he stated, eyes closing as if he suddenly felt bothered by the projection's light. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "As Strike Commander, I believe agent McCree is the most valuable informant we have, and would no doubt play a critical role in the success of this mission. He holds all of the vital knowledge we would need, presumably better logistics for Deadlock and maybe even their base of operation."

 

"But?"

 

They could both hear the unspoken 'but' at the end of Jack's speech. They knew it was there even if Gabriel hadn't had pointed it out. They knew it was the predecessor for whatever shouldn't be thought of, let alone brought out into the open, yet both of them wanted the point to be acknowledged. They wanted it to be wholly, subjectively considered in this mercilessly objective assignment.

 

Gabriel could see that Jack was weighing his options; to speak or not to speak? That really was the horrid question.

 

Slowly, as if with great effort, Jack opened his eyes, arms crossing over his chest with an air of resignation. He worked the muscle in his jaw as he carefully mulled over the consequences that might come with speaking.

 

"But," he said, "As Jack, as _myself_ , I don't want Jesse anywhere near this. I don't care what he knows. Honestly, I wouldn't even care if he could give us a detailed layout of their base and the exact coordinates of it. Bringing him into this would just be-" He choked on his words, unable to swallow them down. "Well, it would just be fucking cruel, wouldn’t it?”

 

As Jack spoke, Reyes moved back and leaned against the desk, careful not to push on the other's dangling legs. His presence seemed to thankfully ease some of the tension in Morrison's body. Jack gently bumped his knee into Gabriel's side, as if the physical feeling of another body could keep him grounded, keep his thoughts on track.

 

"I don't know if he's prepared to even _talk_ about that kind of thing, let alone watch all of this shit go down." Jack's voice was nothing but a raspy whisper. It sounded like all of the emotions were present but the tears had run dry.

 

To Gabriel, it was completely understandable that Jack would be an emotional wreck over this shit. Over the last few years, both Morrison and McCree had managed to become closer. Everybody knew that, and most were grateful for it, too.When thinking back on it, it really came to no surprise that the two had eventually bonded so well; Gabriel could honestly say that Jack had worried and even _cared_ about Jesse's wellbeing, even in the beginning.Reyes couldn't say the same for Jesse, though.

 

It had taken the kid a while to come around (all things considered, he had a reason to be distant and mad), but eventually, he put the past behind him and reached out to Jack.The two of them still bickered like angry old hens, but most of the time, their conversations consisted of hilariously dry humor and midnight talks over microwaved coffee. It had been such a good thing for both of them, and Reyes couldn't help himself from feeling relieved.

 

Still, despite it all, Gabriel was horribly prone to jealousy.

 

The manner in which Jack looked at Jesse sometimes set him on edge; how those gentle blue eyes widened and softened, the way his lips parted with a slight smile, the faint tincture of pink on his cheeks when Jesse would laugh and prop himself against Jack.

 

Jesse was prone to flirting (everyone knew that pretty damn well), but the kid had always explained it as him genuinely complimenting a person instead of expressing romantic or sexual feelings.It was his honest to God observations on what he thought was wonderful about a person, and even better, everyone could count on the fact that whatever Jesse said was what he considered true. Anybody that stumbled across McCree would get that kind of flattery eventually, but when Jesse found susceptible (and usually self-depreciating) prey, he could be relentless.

 

As such, Jack was his current target.

 

The man had always been so hard on himself, feeling as if the weight of the world was his burden alone. Jesse, in his playful way of showing love and support, would always affectionately flirt with Jack.He would comment on Jack’s performance, talk sweetly of his achievements, and even throw in a few good quips about his good looks. Just like with everyone else, the compliments made the Strike Commander feel immensely better. Gabriel was just afraid that Jack’s feelings weren’t entirely platonic, and sometimes, he worried about Jesse’s feelings, too.

 

It drove Gabriel crazy, always thinking about those kinds of things, but he knew deep down in his heart that Jesse technically wasn’t his to keep. He had never asked to become anything more than constant bedmates with McCree, never asked for true titles or commitment. If Jesse ever left him for the tender, attentive man that was Jack Morrison... well, Gabriel only had himself to blame, didn’t he?

 

Still, jealousy seemed like such a small, petty problem compared to the war that was at hand. It would effect all of them. It would probably irreparably twist Jesse in some horrible fashion, and Jack was Jesse friend, too. Carefully, as if afraid to break the man, Gabriel put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. He understood Jack's desperation better than anyone else.

 

"What if he wants to be a part of this mission, Gabe?" Jack continued. "What would we even tell him? We couldn't say no, just because of how much he knows. Jesse doesn't deserve to be dragged back into Hell when he's barely just got out of it."

 

With an exasperated sigh of his own, Gabriel ran a hand across his face and pulled on one of the strings to his sweatshirt. Jack was right. Of course he was. They both knew it, but neither of them wanted to acknowledge just what exactly that would mean for McCree. Telling him and not telling him would damage Jesse in two different ways, and it was hard to choose which was the lesser of two evils.

 

Still, a decision had to be made.

 

"Athena," Reyes called, dropping his head with shame, "Call in agent McCree. Tell him to finish up whatever he's doing and be in Morrison's office within the hour."

 

\----

 

Of all the times McCree chose _not_ to be late, why did it have to be now?

 

When the door opened and a cheerful whistle filled the air, Jack hunched his shoulders and Gabriel dropped his head even lower than before, both of them tense with their anticipation. They both felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, and they could only wait for suffocation.

 

"Morning! I just finished helping one of the little cadets find the cafeteria. Cute little thing, sorta spacey, but a real nice woman. What did y'all-"

 

The sentence stopped. Even from where he was sitting, Gabriel could hear Jesse's breathing shutter to a halt, his feet stopping and rooting to the spot. Nobody said a word.

 

If Jack and Gabriel lied to themselves, they might could say that Jesse’s mirth hadn’t just been completely, utterly shattered like a fragile piece of glass.

 

Jesse’s joy went wherever he did. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. His laughter and benevolent spirit spread like the plague, and everybody in Blackwatch loved it more than any gift they had even been to them. When Jesse was around, it was hard for anyone to feel bad.

 

It was a consistent comfort, one that never seemed to fade away, even when Jesse himself was having a horrible day (but on those days, everyone made it a top priority to get Jesse back to his goofy old self).

 

It was why it hurt so fucking bad to feel that joy, that lightness and love for life, dissipate like a thin wisp of smoke.

 

After what felt like an eternity of silence, of waiting, Jesse slowly walked towards the screen with forcefully precise steps, moving as if each inch forward required all of his willpower. It might have, in all honesty. With his long hair hanging over his eyes like a veil, neither Jack nor Gabriel could tell exactly what Jesse was thinking or feeling.

 

The only thing they see as he came to a stop in front of the screen was how his muscles were so tense they became defined even under his shirt; it looked as if he were prepared to either punch the screen or run.

 

Jesse was not a hulking man of muscle like Gabriel or Jack, but he had certainly filled out over the years. Once his body had finally been given proper sustenance, he caught up swiftly with his peers, becoming a few inches taller and appearing less fragile, more muscular and powerful.

 

He was still lean (forever narrow-hipped and slender it would seem), but now he looked like he could pose a threat. A body to match his brilliant mind.

 

Brilliant or not, though, Jesse appear to have completely shut down as far as his emotions went (an understandable thing, certainly, but one that made Gabriel's heart ache).

 

"How long?" Jesse asked, and his voice started to quiver when he spoke. "Tell me this hasn't been going on for long, tell me you weren't keeping me in the dark."

 

"No, I... it's just been three days," Jack said. Neither he nor Reyes stepped up to go comfort Jesse, but instead let him have his space, let him watch the video feed and read the papers, eyes no doubt wandering all over the map as well.

 

"I was waiting to see if it was a momentary thing,” Jack continued. “And Gabe just found out this morning."

 

"Why exactly did you call for me? Did you want help, or did you just want me in the loop?" Jesse asked. His voice was too raspy, as if the strain from holding back whatever he might've felt was too much. He was trying to stay in control.

 

Jesse brought up a good point, though. What _did_ they want? Like Jack had said earlier, there was no way they could turn down Jesse if he realized they were forming a mission (the kid wasn’t stupid, he probably knew they were discussing tactics when Athena called him).

 

If asked to be put on the team roster, it was game over. At the same time, though, they suddenly had a loophole; the kid _hadn’t_  offered himself up, he’d just asked why he'd been called.

 

Still, they both knew they couldn't rightfully push away any chance of help they could get.

 

"If you can tell us anything, anything at all, then it would be greatly appreciated."

 

Jack hadn't moved to stand, but his body leaned forwards in defeat, and his voice was muffled as his hands covered his face.

 

"If you can't, Gabriel can try to make it out like I was just trying to keep you up to date, I'll just need you to-"

 

"They plan on staying near the rivers."

 

Jesse's voice made both Jack and Gabriel jump. They watched as surprisingly steady hands traced over the map, running over all of the places that had already been attacked instead of the ones blinking red. McCree moved with clinical precision. It looked as if he were no longer fazed by the chaos.

 

It brought some strange sort of relief to Gabriel, who stood from his spot and moved to stay a few feet away from where Jesse worked. It somehow seemed to bring Jesse comfort, too.

 

It truly felt as if this was just a battle plan for some distant warring place, far from home and easily objective. It might've been personal, but for now, they could pretend it wasn't.

 

"They raided the outliers and they're leaving the lands close to water. You already knew that, of course. It's just the 'why' of the situation that's getting us," Jesse said. "The 'why' is gonna have to wait for just a minute, though, because the problem I'm having is that they're burning almost everything to the ground, and they're doing it on a large scale."

 

It was with some form of broken reverence that Jesse traced his fingers over Santa Fe (the starting place for this, the origin for the chaos), and Gabriel carefully stepped closer as he placed a hand on the kid's shoulder.

 

Jesse tossed him a soft smile. It seemed to be on the wrong side of forced, but Gabriel would take it.

 

"The real problem is that Deadlock don't roll like this," Jesse continued.

 

He pulled up five subsections of the map, and then turned to beckon Jack to join them. Taos, Tucumcari, Las Cruces, Albuquerque, and Santa Fe all appeared in their own tiny pop-ups, hovering not too far from their origins.

 

“They take what they need from locals and that's it. They don't attack like this, never have and probably never would've."

 

"So they're being forced to," Jack said. He was shoulder to shoulder with Jesse now, who took the contact as a great comfort. "Or maybe they were asked."

 

"They'd never be forced to do anything. Believe me, they'll _all_ take a bullet and die with their pride before giving into threats. Arrogant sacks of shit. We know they were asked, and whoever asked them gave them a shit ton of cannon fodder."

 

Jesse paused, then traded the maps for the live feed in Tucumcari, pulling it to fit a large portion of the holographic screen.

 

"There's no way they could've done all this without some sort of support. If what you said was true, that this started a few days ago, then it's _really_ unlikely that they didn't have some massive help, especially since Reyes put them in a tight position for a while."

 

So Gabriel's estimations _had_ been right; there really was no way that Deadlock could've resurrected so fast after being shot down and put out of business. Confirmation was good, Jesse had been backing up almost every single thing that both Jack and Gabriel had individually observed, but they still needed more.

 

"They were making transactions with Talon," Gabriel said, "But we've never known Talon to assist other terrorist groups. They usually step carefully-"

 

"Trust me, they're being careful," Jesse interrupted. " _Deadlock_ will take the fall for this, and Talon will make out like they were never there. The public won’t know anything different, and neither would we if we didn’t know Talon before this.”

 

"But they're doing this for a reason,” Jack said. “They'd have to be, or they would've never even risked showing up in the first place. They especially wouldn't waste valuable resources.”

 

Jesse nodded his head in agreement, but said nothing more. Instead, he closed off every single thing except for the map, allowing it to take up the entire space, and slowly pulled up a live camera they had in Santa Fe. It only took up a fraction of the screen, but that's where Jesse kept his attention.

 

Santa Fe, and really most of the world, had been completely changed by the Omnic Crisis. Even after so many years, many places hadn't rebuilt the destroyed parts of their towns, and some even abandoned whole cities, claiming them to be beyond repair. A huge chunk of Jesse's home had been reverted back into an empty shell. Once again, it was a vast expanse of endless red earth.

 

Truthfully, neither Jack nor Gabriel could truly empathize with Jesse; rural Indiana could be fixed, and there was no way a city like Los Angeles would ever be lost to destruction.

 

Tragedy and chaos were all Jesse had ever known, he’d been born and raised in it, and now it was seeking him out.

 

"So... what's both of your objectives with this thing?" Jesse asked. "What do you want to do, and how do you plan to do it?"

 

He finally turned his back to the screen, choosing instead to focus wholly on Jack and Gabriel. Something about the way he phrased his questions made Gabriel suspicious.

 

"Our goal is to stop the conflict at all costs. We need all of the information we can get before we try to engage in anything," Jack said. He seemed fine with disclosing that to Jesse, and normally Gabriel would, too. Something about this whole thing was making him hesitate.

 

This was personal.

 

Jesse, despite every ounce of his easy charisma and mastered self-possession, couldn't hide the manic rage that was welling up behind his eyes. He could speak as calmly as a lamb and keep his hands steady, but Gabriel knew.

 

He knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that there were only so many ways this mission could go, and Jesse wouldn't stray too far from the warpath he seemed to be making. This would be a matter of life and death, it was just a matter of who killed who first.

 

"If it's information you want, I've got an idea on how we can get it," Jesse said. "It'll be easy enough if we work together."

 

"And what's this going to cost us?" Gabriel asked. He squinted skeptically at Jesse.

 

McCree responded with a sadist's smile, teeth seeming to glint ominously in the lowlight.

 

"Oh, it ain't gonna cost _us_ nothing."

 

\-----

 

Generally speaking, Jesse had been right; his plan so far had really costed them nothing. Well, nothing except for sleep. The only thing that Gabriel was displeased about was being summoned down into the darkest corridors of the base at three in the morning (hell, he only had time to tug his boots on underneath his pajama pants and tuck his knife into his sweatshirt pocket. Like hell he would ever walk around without it).

 

The interrogation rooms were at the lowest level on any given Overwatch facility, being placed under a number of restrictions (who would've thought?) to keep most people out. Most of Blackwatch had been given clearance, but Overwatch agents had a more rigorous process.

 

That was fine with Gabe.

 

Thankfully, none of those appointed agents were down here. The only people he saw were covered in black and red, his wonderful soldiers, and they greeted him with smiles and lighthearted teasing (they didn't have to be uptight and formal on base as long as they weren't disrespectful or disruptive).

 

Some of the Blackwatch agents looked at him with a mix of sympathy and remorseless amusement at the three cups of coffee he carried in his hands. They all knew the largest one was for Gabriel himself, the other two belonging to either Jack, Jesse, or Ana. Since Ana was currently in Egypt, they could easily guess who the other mugs were being given to.

 

"Commander Reyes?"

 

Gabriel was too tired to be jumpy at the voice calling out behind him. Even if he were more alert, he knew the man it belonged to; Victor Giroux, his field medic. Emphatic and tender but ruthlessly strict, the young man was a godsend in all senses of the word.

 

He smiled kindly as he took the other two cups from Gabriel, his grey eyes holding the same tiredness as Reyes himself.

 

"Forgive me, sir, but if you're going where I think you're going," Giroux gently nudged him to turn back, pushing him a few steps forwards, "You just passed it. Long night?"

 

"Long _week_ ," Gabriel replied. "And thank you for grabbing those."

 

Giroux hummed and continued to steer Gabriel down the hall. He only stopped when they reached room 258, which was where Athena had told him to be. The light above the door was radiating bright red, just like a few other doors in the area, warning agents that the rooms were in use. It hurt Gabriel's eyes, but he disregarded the light as he opened the door.

 

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped in from the hallway, Jack and Jesse were in the front part of the room, chatting idly while peering through the one-way glass.

 

"Thank you for finding him, Victor. I knew we could count on you!” Jesse called. He waved and smiled kindly at the medic, who sheepishly ducked his head and handed the other two men their respective coffee mugs. With a soft goodbye, Giroux fled the scene, politely closing the door behind him.

 

"Can't you two handle this by yourselves?" Gabriel asked. "It's three in the fucking morning. It could've at least waited until sunrise.”

 

Gabriel looked as tired as he sounded. Still, one glance at Jack made him feel a bit better; poor Jack was still covered in red earth and bruises, and a bandage was taped almost perfectly over his cheek, obviously Giroux's handiwork.

 

He had ditched his typical gear (it was more for show, anyways) and instead wore a white shirt and Blackwatch - not Overwatch - issued pants, both of which were now ruined. From where his sleeves cut off on his biceps, blood and dirt stained Jack’s arms. His chest armor was still on, and so were some of the various holsters he had strapped to his legs. Jack still had blood on his chin from a split lip.

 

"Better to just get this over with while we can," Jack said. Both he and Jesse motioned for Gabriel to come look through the glass, and he did.

 

In the true cell of the interrogation room, locked behind a second, more heavily fortified door, was a scrawny, raggedy man scarcely older than Jesse himself. The man was strapped into a chair, legs and arms chained almost painfully tight.

 

Even if the inky brand hadn't been placed upon this man, Gabriel could've easily guessed he was a Deadlock punk, both from how he dressed and how Jesse leered at him.

 

Considering how bloody and utterly beaten this man was, Gabriel wouldn’t have been shocked if this man was dead. His head was drooped so far down that his filthy, matted blond hair (it was horribly stained by trapped dirt, the same red shade that covered Jack) brushed the very top of the table.

 

It looked like his hair had been caught up in some mechanical nightmare; the entire thing was jagged, some places being longer than others or falling short in odd patches. Even the longest strands didn’t fall fully past his ears.

 

Compared to Jesse’s carefully groomed locks, it was an absolute wreck. Gabriel thought it both funny and odd that Jesse held his hair in the highest regard (even in the beginning, he had nearly bitten Jack’s hand off when he tried to cut it to the Overwatch regulatory length), while this man obviously hadn’t taken any care of his.

 

"Anybody want to fill me in?" Gabriel asked.

 

Jack stood up straight as he took a few large gulps of coffee. Blood stained where his lips had been, but he seemed unbothered by it as he drank.

 

"I went down to Tucumcari like we planned. I was honestly hoping to find Talon operatives, but I found a few Deadlock punks instead. I decided that they were better than nothing," Jack explained. He jerked his head as he motioned to the man in the chair. "He was the only one that surrendered. Sort of."

 

"Sort of?"

 

"Jesse was right when he said they didn't go down easy. Still, that man in there will tell us everything we need to know now that you're here to talk to him."

 

Jack shrugged his shoulders as he talked, facing Jesse as he playfully jabbed his elbow into the kid's ribs. Jesse huffed lightly and jabbed right back.

 

McCree looked almost painfully tense, if not completely overwhelmed. Not that Gabriel could blame him, really. This just seemed... different. This seemed _aggressive_. It suddenly made sense that Jack had called him down instead of letting Jesse do the interrogation, and it was an equally bad idea to leave him to his own devices while Jack was busy.

 

Gabriel worried, perhaps a little too late, that this mission might not be in Jesse’s best interest.

 

Well, he and Jack had both known from the very beginning that it was a risk, but as time went on, something darker seemed to emerge from Jesse that was wholly unlike himself.

 

Some putrid emotion, long forgotten and hidden away, had been left to fester and rot, and Gabriel couldn't help but be wary as they brought it to the surface faster than what was considered safe.

 

Perhaps this is why Jesse had left it untouched to begin with.

 

Before Reyes could ask for further information or speak another word, Jesse pushed himself off of the wall where he'd been leaning, turning from malicious to flippantly determined so fast it made Gabriel's head spin. No doubt he knew what Reyes had been thinking (Jesse was good at anticipating others, and besides, Gabriel's sleepiness probably made him more readable than normal).

 

"He knows me, so I can't go in there, obviously," Jesse said, tipping back his cup with a lazy flick of his wrist.

 

He seemed genuinely please to have some form of caffeine in his system, and it just occurred to Gabriel that the kid might've been awake for a good, long while.

 

“But I'm going to have to talk to you while you do the interrogation. I'll supply what I can via our comms, and you can do whatever you want with what I know."

 

"Sounds like a plan," Gabriel said.

 

They all took a moment to relax in the relative silence. Around them was the constant hum of electricity and machinery, the sound of footsteps outside and someone subconsciously clearing their throat, occasionally tapping their boot against the floor. On the wall above the glass, a clock was steadily ticking off the time. It was a comforting monotony.

 

No matter where in the world they went, no matter who they worked to defend or fight against, no matter when they tried to rest, there was always some new, intrusive sound, something to process while trying to pay attention to ten other things. The tick of the clock and the sound of rhythmic breathing was a beautiful form of silence.

 

Without a word, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, nearly invisible earpiece, then threw it to Gabriel. They were lucky that he was awake enough to catch it with one hand. In exchange for the piece, Gabriel handed his nearly empty cup to Jack as he started to situate the device in his ear.

 

"Anything specific I should ask him, or any topics I should steer clear of?" Gabriel turned to Jesse as he finally got his piece comfortable. The kid shook his head and leaned back against the glass like he had been before.

 

"Anything and everything that comes out of his mouth is free game. Just don't mention old King, not unless he seems keen on spilling that information." For a moment, Jesse's expression twisted into bitter grimace, wry amusement written across his face. "But trust me, he's not gonna say jack shit about that man."

 

Giving little more than a nod, Gabriel took his leave and opened the door to the interrogation cell. He found himself unsurprised that the captured man didn't move; he seemed to be nearly unconscious, apparently trying to sleep off his various pains and aches.

 

That wouldn't do.

 

Without any sort of hesitation or restraint, Gabriel slammed his fists down onto the metal table in between him and the other man, who screamed so loudly and jolted back so aggressively that it looked as if he had been shot in the gut.

 

His eyes looked around wildly from underneath his choppy bangs, and if it weren't for the fact that this man had been a part of the raids, Gabriel might've felt bad for him.

 

"Rise and shine, kid," Gabriel said, plopping down into the seat across from the man. He was too tired for this.

 

"Who the fuck are you?" The gang member's voice was stuck between livid anger and absolute dread, and Gabriel couldn't help but think about Jesse. He often sounded the same way when faced with fear. Pushing the connection aside, Gabriel proceeded with his task.

 

"Better question, who the fuck are _you_?"

 

When Reyes asked him that, the man seemed almost too stunned to choke out anything to answer. Gabriel snorted. If what Jesse had said was true (and Jack had the evidence to back it up), then this man was a rare breed of Deadlock.

 

He was a coward for not going down with the others. That meant he still had some self-preservation left, which would make Gabriel's job a hell of a lot easier.

 

When Jesse had first been taken in, he'd fought like a wildcat. Hell, he had busted Jack's face open by smashing his head against the other’s face. Jesse might've had fire, but he hadn’t really had a will to live. He fought because it was all he'd ever known.

 

Gabriel didn't want to think about it, but maybe Jesse fought with the hopes that he would die in the end. What did he really have to live for back then? He'd been weak, diseased, underfed, and feral, all of which added up to a pretty sore life when suffered for years on end. Gabriel couldn't blame the kid.

 

This man, though, he could blame.

 

"You know what? Fuck y-"

 

"Weigh you options carefully before you finish that sentence," Gabriel warned. His voice changed, going from calm to life-threatening like it did on the field. It was usually enough to put the fear of God into most anybody, and it seemed to do the trick here, too.

 

"I'm... my name is Lenny Austin."

 

"Bullshit." Jesse's voice from the earpiece was unexpected, but it was good to know that he was listening, ready to share when he could. Truthfully, Reyes had been worried that Jesse would try to say nothing at all with the claim of ignorance.

 

"That man's name is Dakota Vance, he's four years older than me and he's a backstabbing bitch, plus everyone knows he’s a squealer. They probably didn’t tell him shit because of that, so he’s a dud for the Talon mission. Do whatever you want with him now.”

 

Gabriel could hear Jack laughing and practically wheezing at Jesse for even using a petty teenage phrase like 'backstabbing bitch' (something he honestly probably picked up from Fareeha), and despite the seriousness of this entire thing, Reyes felt himself loosen up a bit.

 

Still, if Jesse was right, it was a shame this man couldn’t tell them anything regarding their current situation. Even so, he might have _something_ useful to say.

 

"You know, Dakota," Gabriel began. He reveled in the way the man reeled backwards, his face draining of its blood. "We're not off to a very good start, considering you just lied to me. You're already starting to piss me off, and guess what, buddy? Unless you want to end up in a body bag, I'm your only ticket out of here.”

 

Dakota looked like he wanted to piss himself and vomit at the same time. He might've, if he had any food or water left in him. Gabriel highly doubted it. Still, the threats had their desired effect, and the man looked thoroughly ready to squeal in order to save his life.

 

Like Reyes said, a person with self-preservation made for a good confessor, especially when mixed with cowardice.

 

"Now then, you're going to answer _all_ of my questions, and believe me when I say that I'll know when you're lying." As if to prove a point, Gabriel took his knife out of his sweatshirt pocket and brandished it in the fluorescent lighting, moving to clean his nails with the sharp edge. "First of all, why is Deadlock raiding New Mexico?"

 

"We... we’ve always done that."

 

"You want to try that again?" Reyes's eyes bore into Dakota's, both men very, _very_ aware that Dakota had just lied once again. The more time that ticked on, the more displeased and angry that Gabriel seemed to become.

 

Just as he was about to snap, the other man spoke up, his voice breaking as tears started to flow shamelessly from his bloodshot eyes (no doubt he had been awake for a good while, even before he had been brought in for interrogation). The floodgates had opened, and information was now free game.

 

"I said it was a bad idea, I said it was stupid, but nobody listened to me!" Dakota cried. "That one group, Talon or whatever, they asked for people and weapons and shit! This never would've happened if the other leaders were alive, they never would've let old King just-"

 

For a moment, the man seemed to freeze almost completely. Even his breathing seemed to stop, only to start back up again with a vengeance. He was practically hyperventilating.

 

How... odd.

 

Truthfully, Gabriel couldn't help but wonder for the thousandth time who King really was; who could strike so much fear and absolute dread in a whole group of reckless rebels with no love for life? How could he ever claim such reverence? Jesse had never spoken ill of the man, but the one time the name had come out of his mouth, it seemed to be like ashes on his tongue.

 

"The other leaders?" Gabriel asked. His expression was one of apathy, as if he weren't even interested in what Dakota had to say. If he didn't react to King's name, it would appear like he hadn't even caught it. The diversion seemed to work.

 

"Yeah, uh, the other leaders. They... they died a few years back," the other man supplied, tears still plentiful but now under more control.

 

"Can you tell me their names?"

 

Dakota seemed taken aback by that request, eyes widening in surprise as he hiccuped and sniffled. He looked as if he wouldn't talk for a moment.

 

Gabriel could tell the man was slowly building back up all of his anger-fueled defenses, something that was probably going to be a pain in Reyes's ass when it decided to rear its ugly head.

 

Thankfully, Dakota currently seemed to be more distraught than angry. His head dropped in defeat a few seconds later.

 

"There weren't a lot of them, not in the core group," he said. "It was just John Cassidy, Aaron Driscoll, Jesse McCree, Angelo de la Rosa, and Zachariah Thomas."

 

For just a split second, Gabriel was almost disgusted at how easily this man was willing to drop the names of his comrades, even if they were dead (well, with the exception of Jesse). It really was a coward's move.

 

Still, as the interrogator, this was fantastic. It seemed like an especially sweet victory since he had mentioned Jesse's name. It was something that Gabriel hadn't known for sure about McCree; a leader of Deadlock, as this man had said. It might've been true, considering Jesse wasn't harping criticism in his ear.

 

"What can you tell me about Jesse McCree?" Reyes asked. Again, Jesse wasn't stopping him from asking, so Gabriel could only hope this was an okay thing to do.

 

If he were honest with himself, Gabriel was almost too eager to jump at the opportunity to learn more about Jesse. Three years of not even knowing the bare bones of the kid's past had driven him up the wall. With the life that Jesse had been making for himself in Blackwatch, the past really shouldn't have mattered that much compared to the present.

 

Still, Reyes couldn't help but be overly curious, even as he saw the question make Dakota's fearful anger flare up like a forest fire.

 

"The fuck does it matter to you?" the man hissed. "He's dead, ain't he? Nothing more to know."

 

"Remember what I said about answering _all_ my questions? Tread lightly, boy." Gabriel scowled at the man as he leaned forwards on the table, forcing his domineering presence into the other man's personal space. For once, Dakota didn't back down.

 

He pushed his luck a little too far when he spat in Gabriel's face. With a unnerving calmness, Reyes wiped the spit off of his face and stood up, knife in hand.

 

"Right shoulder or left leg," Jesse said. “Crush injuries caused him nerve damage. It’ll hurt worse.”

 

Gabriel didn't hesitate in taking McCree's advice. He pushed the the chair out (it almost tipped over, but Gabriel would've been fine if it did) and without a shred of remorse, he drove his blade directly into the fleshy part of the other man's leg, twisting with enough force to make even a strong man beg for mercy.

 

As Dakota screamed and howled every unintelligible phrase that probably resembled a curse, Gabriel settled back down into his seat. He left the knife in the other man’s skin, and patiently bided his time.

 

"You want to try that little stunt again?"

 

Dakota was openly weeping once again, shaking his head with such fervor that Gabriel was afraid he might get whiplash.

 

“Good. Now tell me about Jesse McCree.”

 

It took many a good minute for the other man to rein in his reaction (understandably), but once he was under control, he was only a bitter, sniffling mess.

 

“Little cunt, is what he was,” Dakota said. His voice was dripping with malicious venom in between his hiccups. “Always busting our balls over everything, never gave a shit about anything we did. Never stuck around, neither. Always did other work, left _us_ to do the heavy lifting. Long haired little bitch. They should’ve left him in the streets.”

 

If Gabriel didn't know Jesse personally, he would've actually wanted to choke McCree with that kind of description. Dakota seemed to talk of him with such earnest animosity that it made Reyes wonder just what went down in Deadlock before the sting operation. They never really got much personal information out of that, just weapons and numbers and estimations.

 

Having a living member was working wonders.

 

Still, anger and fear were building back up in Dakota, and Gabriel was hesitant to let that bud blossom again. It really _was_  a pain in the ass (and a pain in the leg, in the other man’s case).

 

“I just want to know a little bit more,” Gabriel said. His voice took on a softer tone, a merciful timbre, and the Deadlock man held onto it like a lifeline. “Tell me what I want to know, and everything will stop. How was this McCree boy important?”

 

Dakota mulled over his words, and against his better judgement, he threw a question at Gabriel.

 

“You’ve heard of him outside of the gang?” he asked. He seemed a little mystified (and, unsurprisingly, very bitter) at Reyes even knowing of a member. It seemed like they valued personal privacy.

 

"I've heard of him, yes," Gabriel said. “Last I was told, his ass is being held in supermax and he's on his way to death row."

 

"He _survived_?" Dakota, for just a moment, seemed somewhat relieved, but Gabriel could easily guess that it wasn't because he actually liked Jesse. It was probably with the hope that others survived, too. The relief for Jesse's life quickly diminished, and instead was replaced with scorn. "It's just like that boy to outlive everybody else."

 

"Bitterness aside," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "He was important to Deadlock, was he not?"

 

"Sure he was. He was a right smart bastard if there ever was one. Basically made all of our plans and stuff, being our... uh, what's the word?"

 

"Tactician?”

 

"Yeah," Dakota said, "Tactician. Some people say he's the only reason Deadlock got as far as it did, and despite how much I hate him, I'm liable to think it's true." The man paused for a minute, and he slowly seemed to become amused at himself and his thoughts.

 

That rubbed Gabriel the wrong way for some reason; this was far from a funny situation, and the one thing that burned Reyes up was when some lowlife punk thought he could hop on a high horse for some stupid-ass reason.

 

"’Course, it's not like he ever knew he was useful. The others always took his ideas and beat the shit out of him, being the runt and all that. 'Intelligence is dangerous,’ or whatever it was that they'd say. Never cared too much for their smart shit.”

 

With suddenly clarity, Gabriel realized that _might_ explain why Jesse wasn’t piping up much to add to the story. This was new information for him just as it was for Reyes and Morrison. It was honestly something that Gabriel was a bit reluctant to know.

 

He knew that Jesse had lived a shit life (everybody knew that, truthfully), but this? Being beaten, manipulated, abused? It’s not to say that it was unexpected, but it was downright painful to hear about it from a direct source. Jesse was a clever man, and that was what put a target on his back in the end.

 

“Nobody intervened,” Dakota continued, “But then again, everybody was afraid of the kid. He was a freaky son of a bitch with that eye of his. Believe it or not, he could kill six men when he had to, all under ten seconds. Just had to shoot him up with adrenaline first.”

 

“Impossible,” Gabriel scoffed, but he knew very well that it was more than possible.

 

The first time he’d seen Jesse use Deadeye (well, just the aftermath of it), it had been used to kill five of his men on the Deadlock sting mission. Even then, it was more of a ‘the kid is a pretty good shot’ type of deal instead of a ‘holy shit this kid acts like he’s fucking _possessed_  when stressed’ one.

 

Nobody had even been alive to tell Gabriel about that encounter. If it hadn’t been explained later by Jesse, then Gabriel would’ve never even known. That brought him to the second instance.

 

Admittedly, he was a little freaked out when he’d actually _seen_ Deadeye. It wasn’t the six man shootout that Dakota had spoken of, but it was a nasty experience nonetheless. The kid had almost killed a man out of sheer rage.

 

It was something that Gabriel couldn’t fault Jesse for, though, simply because Fareeha had been in danger and the Overwatch agent that had been harassing her was a fucking creep.

 

Just thinking about that instance made his blood pressure rise, which was not a good thing for his current situation (at least, it wasn’t very good for Dakota).

 

“You plan on staying quiet forever, or do I need to reacquaint you with that knife?” Gabriel threatened.

 

“Uh, he had a short fuse, too,” Dakota said, speaking more quickly now. “He’s beat a man to death more than once, didn’t care to cover any of them up. Too wild for our liking ‘cause of it. He was dangerous, so everybody thought it was best to keep their distance and let the others stomp his fire out.”

 

The anger Gabriel felt was like a ticking time bomb, and every single fucking word that came out of that asshole’s mouth was pushing him further to an explosion. Gabriel might’ve actually reached over to strangle Dakota if the man didn’t suddenly look as if he’d seen a ghost.

 

If Reyes didn’t know any better, he would’ve truly thought Dakota had pissed himself for real (which, considering the slight scent of ammonia in the air, was an undeniable fact now).

 

“Hope you had a fun time spilling your guts, Vance, because now you ain’t getting out of here alive.”

 

Gabriel whipped his head around towards the door. It was a violent surprise to be greeted with one Jesse McCree, leaning against the frame and grinning so sadistically that Gabriel himself felt a bit threatened. No doubt Dakota felt a whole lot worse.

 

Hell, the man had started struggling so hard in his confines that his chair tipped over, the side of his head colliding with the floor with a loud crack.

 

The groaning and subsequent whimpering seemed to pacify Jesse. His demeanor settled into something less vicious as he looked towards Gabriel, trying to remain charming despite the utter fatigue that seemed to overtake him.

 

“You ever heard of knocking?” Gabriel joked. Jesse gave him a chuckle, and Reyes feel a bit relieved to hear it.

 

Jesse entering the room must’ve signified that the deed was done, and that all useful information had been sapped out of their captive.

 

With a light stretch, Gabriel stood from his spot and walked over to Dakota. He felt no sympathy for the pathetic man. He was a world away from Jesse, who Gabriel knew would’ve fought for as long as his body would let him before spilling out names and information, even if a man was deceased (hell, Jesse would probably take all of his secrets to the grave).

 

It made Gabriel feel a swell of pride.

 

Still, it was a shame they couldn’t get anything current out of Dakota. That meant that they would have to rely on what they had and mix it with whatever Jesse decided to tell them. Hopefully that would be enough.

 

Without a care for Dakota’s comfort, Gabriel ripped the knife straight out of his leg. The screams and cries brought the vengeful part of Reyes a sick sense of joy; he felt a bit hypocritical, knowing that Jesse felt the same joy but was partially shamed for it. Regardless, he could sort that feeling out later.

 

“Hold on to that,” Gabriel said, handing the knife to Jesse. The kid playfully gagged as he wiped the blood off on his pants and hid the blade in his boot, following behind Gabriel and leaving the weeping body behind.

 

 

 

——

 

 

 

The mission to Deadlock Gorge came way too quickly for Gabriel’s liking. From the way Jesse hesitantly helped load all of the gear onto Blackwatch’s Orca (it had affectionally been named Pallas for no other reason than Blackwatch’s agents being a bunch of dorks), Gabriel couldn’t help but think Jesse felt the same way.

 

His other agents (there were about twelve of them there to help load gear and get everything ready, despite only the Strike Team actually going) seemed blissfully unaware of the tension that crackled in the air like lightning.

 

“All good?” Gabriel gently clasped a hand on Jesse’s back, and the kid sighed, throwing his armor onto a nearby seat to put on later.

 

“Just... nervous, I guess. It’s just that-“

 

“Incoming!”

 

A shrill female voice screamed that a little too late, and before Gabriel had any time to respond, Jesse was struck so hard in the chest by some flying object that he skidded a good few feet across the floor, the air completely knocked out of him as he gasped and couched like a dying man. Soon after, agents Sosa and Abbott ran onto the ship, bellowing out hysterical laughter. Behind them came three other people; one of which was the medic, Giroux, who ran to Jesse’s aid.

 

Not enemies, Gabriel told himself. Jesse would be fine. Probably.

 

Now that Gabriel wasn’t about to shoot first and ask questions later, he could see that it was a heavy duffel bag that had been thrown full force into Jesse’s chest, no doubt just full of snacks and drinks instead of useful items.

 

Jesse looked about ready to start hissing until Giroux pulled him to his feet, kicking the duffel bag away and glaring at the other agents.

 

“Enough, you two,” Gabriel scolded, rolling his eyes at Abbott and Sosa. “Go make yourselves useful for once in your damn lives and start helping the others load up.”

 

“Well, that’s just mean,” Sosa said. She was still snickering as her and her teammate ran off, doing as they were commanded.

 

Now that they were gone, Gabriel got a good look at who was left in the ship. His eyes automatically landed on Jesse. Gabriel felt bad for McCree, who was lividly muttering out some very... _creative_ curses as Giroux prodded at his torso (“It’ll just leave light bruises, if anything”). Jesse was already on edge about this whole thing. Although they didn’t mean any harm, Sosa and Abbott really hadn’t helped soothe any of those anxieties. Giroux did, though.

 

The man had a way of calming down even the most contrary and fussiest of men, and under his gentle guidance, Jesse was back to his original state in minutes, maybe even feeling a little better than before. The two started to joke and chuckle as the medic dug into his pocket, pulling out the most stereotypical lollipop a doctor could possibly have and handing it to Jesse with a wink.

 

“Unbelievable.”

 

That wasn’t either of their voices.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Neither was that.

 

As Abbott and Sosa came back onto the ship, allowing the doors to close behind them, Gabriel turned to face the exasperated voice that had spoken so bitterly, and the one who had told the other to be quiet. Jesse seemed to do the same, and moved to stand beside Gabriel. He looked amused, but Reyes felt it was for all the wrong reasons.

 

“And y’all are?” Jesse asked. His voice was uncannily pleasant, as smooth as honey like it tended to be, but the edge underneath was so sharp that his true intent was unmistakable.

 

He wanted to fight.

 

Of course he did. From where Gabriel was standing, he could hear Giroux let out a very soft but weary sigh, and Reyes couldn’t help but feel that he and the medic were all too familiar with each other’s struggles (namely, Jesse’s _remarkable_ ability to start some form of brutal melee).

 

“We have new agents, so it’s introduction time. _Play nice_ ,” Gabriel said. He motioned for all of the agents, Jesse included, to stand in front of him. He made sure to move between the four of them and the two strangers for safety purposes. Just in case.

 

Slowly, Gabriel went down the line. “This is Victor-Augustin Giroux, our field medic. Good man, fantastic at his job, but don’t piss him off. I promise you he’s not afraid to let you rot. Also, he’s basically the only competent agent on this team.”

 

The medic waved with a laugh, made bashful by his commander’s dry form of praise and the way everyone playfully whined at being shamed. Truthfully, Victor deserved a little extra praise; he was Jesse’s greatest friend, exceeding all of the others over the past three years with ease. His calm, mild temperament was a good counterbalance to Jesse’s hotheadedness.Just like Angela, Giroux looked very delicate and fragile, but Gabriel knew from experience that the man could take names and kick ass (anybody who could handle Jesse had to be able to throw down at any given moment).

 

“Next, we have Esmeralda Sosa-“

 

“Call me Esme!” Sosa chirped, and Gabriel huffed at her interruption.

 

“Right. Well, that’s Sosa. She’s our hand-to-hand combat specialist. If you’re going to pick on someone, I suggest you find somebody else.”

 

Everyone laughed at the suggestion due to the slight inside joke that was referenced there. Back when Sosa had first joined Reyes’s Strike Team, a few of the other agents that had been turned down for her position had somehow thought it was a brilliant idea to try and pick a fight with her.

 

Gabriel would never stop laughing at the phone call that Angela had given him. Although she wasn’t supposed to be biased towards her patients, the good doctor had laughed in their faces and had given them a single ice pack to share, snicking as they hobbled out of the ward.

 

“Third is Jonathan Abbott, our tech guy and local mad scientist. If you’ve got some sort of technological problem, you’ll need to see him. Just... if Sosa is with him, be careful.”

 

Jonathan Abbott, while high-strung and chronically anxious, was a brilliant man, one that Jesse had easily gotten along with once he realized they could fuel each other’s crazy ideas. Gabriel would often teasingly lament the fact that if Esme and Jesse hadn’t corrupted Jonathan, he could’ve been such a wonderful agent. Those three, when put together, were a whole bunch of trouble. Jonathan was the only semi-sane one in that group.

 

“Last but certainly not least-“ The other aforementioned agents snickered, and Gabriel shot them a glare- “Is Jesse McCree. He’s our firearms specialist and a jack of all trades. He’s also being considered for the position of Blackwatch’s second-in-command.”

 

“He’s our tactician as well. He’s a rather brilliant young man,” Victor added, a swell of pride in his voice as Esme and Jonathan gave a loud whoop in agreement.

 

Gabriel sighed, but a smile graced his lips all the same. “Yes, he’s that, too.”

 

“He’s also a former criminal and gang member, is he not? With all due respect, Commander Reyes, I don’t see why you would allow someone like him to be in such a powerful position. He’s dangerous.”

 

The previous lighthearted atmosphere quickly dissipated, and Gabriel could tell that it was only through the sheer power of will that all of the other agents kept themselves from speaking in Jesse’s defense. They knew Gabriel would handle the situation (and if he didn’t? Well, Jesse would certainly take his place).

 

“That’s enough, agent Khan. I don’t allow petty conflict within my Strike Team, and I  _especially_ don’t allow persecution.” Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, anger flaring up inside of him. “All of my agents are more than competent regarding their positions. They’re handpicked for their abilities, just as you were. You have no authority to question my decisions.”

 

The man that had spoken ill of Jesse, Bora Khan, was around Gabriel’s age, in his later thirties, but he had the attitude of a crotchety old man who just realized his neighbor’s dog had taken a shit on his lawn. His greying hair was closely cropped, and it emphasized his already severe features. He looked like a man you would want to avoid.

 

Naturally, Jesse didn’t give two shits. He completely ignored Gabriel’s attempt to keep the balance.

 

“Suppose I am a criminal,” Jesse said. He smiled around the stick between his teeth, staining his lips a bloody shade of red when he pulled the candy out with a sharp _pop_. Gabriel was thankful to see Victor subtly grab a hold of the back of Jesse’s shirt.“Suppose I’m all of the things you said. Ain’t got nothing to do with the price of tea in China, now does it? We’re all equals under Reyes.”

 

“We are _not_ equals,” Khan hissed. “If you weren’t an agent, I would-“

 

Jesse laughed, and with the way Giroux suddenly tensed, Gabriel was certain that Jesse had just tried to pull the both of them forwards.

 

“We’ve all got a past, Mr. Khan. It’d be a shame if I had to dig up yours.”

 

Gabriel was suddenly thankful that he stood between Jesse and Bora Khan (or, more accurately, between Khan and the three other agents that would help Jesse tear the man to shreds).

 

Normally, Jesse was almost a little too friendly with newcomers, and everyone knew it. Even the most aggressive of men were subject to the kid’s positivities, but now was not the time to try Jesse’s patience. He had grown darker, more vicious, more turbulent as time went on. Even when he had first been dragged in by Gabriel, he was never this bad. He never acted this way.

 

There were moments that truly worried Gabriel, when it was just him and Jesse; some nights, his partner would shake and cry and kick and scream, and it was all Gabriel could do to try and help him through the night. Jesse would beg Gabriel not to hurt him, to just leave him alone, that he didn’t want to die, to just stop, _stop_ , _please_ just make it _stop_.

 

It broke Gabriel’s heart.

 

Some nights were calmer than others. There were times when Jesse would speak quietly, asking about so many things that Gabriel wasn’t sure he knew the answers to himself. What was life? What was death? What was truly right or wrong? _Was_ there a right or wrong? This went on and on and on until Jesse finally fell asleep, cradled in Gabriel’s arms like a frail, broken bird. It was such a painful nightmare, and he had no idea how to help Jesse get through it all alive.

 

Now was not the time to be contemplating Jesse’s behaviors, though. They had a mission to do, and right now, Bora Khan was the enemy.

 

“Let’s not fight. We come in peace, agent McCree, we swear it. Right, Bora Khan?”

 

Someone else seemed to agree to that, too.

 

Another voice, rough but femininely soft, piped up with a tone that promised a very bloody demise if not listened to. With a heavy scowl, Khan backed down and dismissed himself, going straight for the cockpit. The only stranger left was the woman who had spoken.

 

“I apologize for my partner’s behavior,” she said, holding a hand out for Jesse to take. Gabriel could tell she was genuinely sorry. Jesse could, too, and smiled as he shook her hand. “He’s not the friendliest of people.”

 

“Ah, it’s nothing, ma’am,” Jesse said. He plopped the lollipop back into his mouth and retracted his other hand. “Happens all the time, to be honest. I’ve learned it ain’t nothing personal.”

 

Jesse was right; this wasn’t personal, but it sure as hell didn’t feel any better.

 

A suffocating wave of anger and guilt washed clean through Gabriel as he watched Jesse crush his arm against his side, despite the way he smiled. He was covering his Deadlock tattoo. Nobody else seemed to notice, but Gabriel certainly did. He wanted nothing more than to punch Bora Khan in his face. 

 

Well, at least Khan’s partner was lovely.

 

“My name is Florentyna Karasek, and it’s very nice to meet all of you!” The woman smiled, and everyone else let out soft laughter and waved right back, warm and happy and playful again.

 

“Commander Reyes asked for me and my partner to join his Strike Team, so I must brag that I’m the best mechanic you’ll ever find.” Her chest puffed out in pride as she continued to speak.“Also, I have everything from motor oil to spare parts in my supplies, so help yourselves. Regarding my partner... Bora Khan is a very good pilot, which means we’re all very lucky that he stays _far_ away in the cockpit.”

 

Esme and Jonathan howled with laughter as they nodded, and Victor slapped them roughly upside their heads to get them to tone it down. It only caused everyone else to join in the giggling fits.

 

“Not to be uncultured or rude, ma’am, but is there a nickname you go by?” Jesse asked sheepishly. His cheeks were tinted red with his embarrassment. “I’m just... I’m not the best with names. I mean no offense, honest.”

 

The woman smiled (it reminded Gabriel of Ana, in the way she seemed to want to mother and nurture Jesse), giving McCree a gentle squeeze of his arm. She held no contempt for him like her partner did.

 

She had just met Jesse and she already seemed to adopt him, just like the many agents of Blackwatch had done. Gabriel was pleased to know that she would probably fit right in.

 

“Let me think. Last names are important from where I come from, so...” She paused, tapping her foot as she thought. When she finally found an idea that suited her, she said, “You may call me Kara if you would like! Use it in place of Karasek when we aren’t required to be formal.”

 

“Kara...” Jesse repeated. Gabriel could see him silently rolling the name back and forth in his mouth. After a moment, he smiled brightly. “Alright, ma’am! Kara it is. A very lovely name for a very beautiful lady, if I do say so myself.”

 

Everyone groaned so loudly that Gabriel was sure even Khan could hear it, which was followed by raucous laughter. It was good to see Jesse acting like his old self.

 

Still, despite the joy, despite the happiness that was certainly all around them, Gabriel couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He truly hoped this peace would last, at least for Jesse’s sake.


	2. Death Knows No Bounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve realized that my phone is doing some funky shit and now editing is a pain in my ass, SO PLEASE IF YOU SEE SOME WEIRD CAPS WORDS BE LIKE “dude there’s some weird caps words” SO I CAN ITALICIZE IT FOR YOU

Jesse was the first one out when the Orca had landed. He had thrown his armor onto a spot on the ground (“The middle of our camp is here, so build around it”) as he walked, and nobody asked any questions when he did so and vanished out of sight.

 

Sometimes you just kept your mouth shut for the sake of your team.

 

They had arrived at nightfall under Jesse’s guidance, and seemed to land in middle of nowhere; Gabriel morbidly joked to himself that if Jesse were to try and murder them, then this would almost be like a horror movie.

 

Still, even if Gabriel were to die, he had to admit that the view was utterly breathtaking.

 

About one tenth of a mile away from camp was a jagged cliff face that went down a very, _very_ long distance. The fall would kill a man for sure. All around the edges were cracks that fell down into the earth, big enough to fall down into and hide in. A childlike part of Gabriel kind of hoped they led to caves that he could explore one day.

 

About a mile out, he remembered seeing a small creek, and even farther away was a shorter drop off point, followed by shrub-speckled plains and a small mountain.

 

The plains were dotted with dirt trails and abandoned buildings. Gabriel could make out two large barns and a whole slew of other structures, most of which were spaced out in an orderly fashion.

 

Directly below the drop off was an old mining location, going straight into an expansive crack in the canyon wall. A very large, wooden building acted as its entrance. Gabriel knew from the history books that the structure had been where they would process anything that went in or out.

 

Surprisingly unimpaired railways moved from the town into the mines. After coming through the building, they simply disappeared into the darkness.

 

Gabriel found it funny that the mining buildings would be there in the first place, considering how the plateau that Jesse had the team on held so many rifts and cavities. Surely they didn’t need to make mines when they could so easily dive into the those?

 

There were expanses of up to fifty feet between between one part of the plateau and the other. Gabriel had even spotted a few small, open areas that held water and/or vegetation. It was such an odd setup, and it made almost no sense.

 

Jesse had explained to them that the place was once an outpost for moving livestock, specifically cattle, and had been set up as a mining town before that, the citizens looking for riches and gold. Some of the cracks and holes had been caused by people trying to blow the plateau up, Jesse had said.

 

Apparently it had been pretty popular back in the day; it had a general store and trading post, along with a bank, a hotel, a doctor, and even two saloons. It was something straight out of the Wild West, and everyone felt a little giddy because of that.

 

Outside of that, the world around the camp was pretty barren; Jesse had found them a secluded area hidden behind small, rolling hills made of rocks and red earth, safe from wind and predators (Gabriel had seen a few coyotes chasing hares on the way in, so he was a little wary of the mangy mutts sneaking into camp at night).

 

Thankfully, though, the coyotes were a distant threat. After about two hours, the tents were pitched and Bora Khan was commanded to take the Orca back to Grand Mesa, awaiting for further instructions from Gabriel.

 

Kara didn’t seem to mind Bora’s disappearance very much, not unlike the rest of the group. Everyone seemed grateful for it, even, because they felt a line had been crossed when Bora had attacked Jesse’s character. It was just unacceptable to them, and rightly so.

 

Jesse hadn’t been lying when he said that under Reyes, all men were equal; they all knew personally how the world would treat those it deemed different. Everyone there had blood on their hands, and everyone had at least one part of their past that they would prefer to stay hidden.

 

That was something that made them more human. Something to remind them they were still alive. If that were taken away, then what would tell them they were still breathing?

 

For Bora to infringe upon that belief, to tread on the armistice that Gabriel had made for his people, was punishable to the highest degree in eyes of Blackwatch.

 

If Victor had let go of Jesse, and if Gabriel had allowed the kid to step past his boundary, then Gabriel had no doubt in his mind that Jesse would’ve killed Bora Khan.

 

Thank God Kara wasn’t like that.

 

Instead, she joined the others by the fire that Gabriel had made them, listening to the wildly exaggerated stories from missions past. The mood was light, as if this were some odd little camping trip. It would’ve been perfect if someone hadn’t been missing from the camp.

 

“Has anyone seen McCree?”

 

Of course no one had, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

 

With a quick warning that he was going to look for Jesse, Gabriel left the camp. It only took him a few seconds to find tracks that were most certainly his partner’s, but they were so faint in the dry earth that Gabriel was a little worried he might lose them. He was even more apprehensive when he followed them closer to the edge of the cliff.

 

Jesse didn’t seem like the type to throw himself off a cliff. Still, Gabriel knew distress did horrid things to a man’s mind. He felt a small twist of panic when he noticed that the footprints ended at one of the cracks in the earth’s surface, and the darkness below was too close to a coffin for his liking.

 

“Jesse? You down there?”

 

No answer.

 

Now Gabriel was truly afraid (he was probably overreacting, but still). Thinking only of his partner’s safety, Gabriel jumped down into the crack without any hesitation.

 

It was a very tight fit to say the least. It was a somewhat short drop, maybe ten feet, but rocks had scraped Gabriel’s shoulders as he was forced down into the crevice. It was damp, he noticed, and it was very off-putting.

 

He also noticed empty cans and old, dusty cigarettes laying abandoned in the dirt. A rusty tin pan from some long forgotten era, not doubt used to eat whatever had been in the cans, had been stashed in a small hole formed by the stones for safe keeping.

 

This place looked like a hideout consigned to oblivion.

 

Off about twelve feet was a very small breach in the rocks that had light filtering through it. It was the only other place that Jesse could’ve gone. That being said, when Gabriel approached it and attempted to shimmy through, he vaguely worried he was too large to fit.

 

“Reckon you’ll get stuck like that if you ain’t careful.”

 

As Gabriel finally managed to push his way out, he was greeted by Jesse’s soft voice and the back of his head, body propped up by his hands as he rested on the ground. They were on an outlook, Gabriel realized, and _holy_ _shit_ was the landscape beautiful.

 

Reyes had been to many places in his time; he had seen the mountains of Nepal, the Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, and even the great pyramids in Egypt when Ana had brought them to visit her. This, however, was a whole new level of wonder.

 

As far as the eye could see, a vast expanse of endless, brilliant desert filled the land. Gabriel was surprised to see green foliage (the last time he had been to New Mexico, everything had been shriveled up and dead), and up above them was a beautiful image of countless stars and constellations. Gabriel only looked away from the view in order to safely sit down and not fall to his death.

 

“This is...”

 

“Beautiful?” Jesse supplied.

 

Gabriel nodded. Beneath his fingers, the dry earth caked itself underneath his blunt fingernails, but he found that he didn’t mind. Beside him, Jesse huffed a quiet chuckle. It seemed more sorrowful than Gabriel had expected.

 

Like Gabriel, Jesse ran his fingers along the parched, cracked dirt. Reyes watched as he stopped his tracing and turned a bit to the right, and when he turned back, a small desert flower with brilliant red petals was tentatively offered to Gabriel. He took it gently, and carefully held it in his palm.

 

“Blanket flower,” Jesse supplied. “My second favorite, next to the Fairy-Bells.”

 

The color of the petals had such a striking resemblance to Jesse’s serape (thankfully it was no longer considered evidence, but instead was a vibrant addition to Reyes’s quarters) that Gabriel was certain it was based off the little flower. They even had the gold on the end, just like the serape.

 

“I’m glad you like it here. This is the place I call home,” Jesse said, awkwardly scratching his chin before continuing. “Well, I did before you found me, anyways. Don’t... don’t think of me any less for this, but looking out there, you could see why I never wanted to leave. I miss it a lot.”

 

When Jesse’s voice broke the silence, Gabriel expected himself to be more surprised. It was soft, reverent, like speaking to a holy man, and Gabriel couldn’t help but think that perhaps the natural world was the deity that Jesse chose to worship.

 

The desert was cruel. It could be harsh, relentlessly dead and unforgiving, and it was all that Jesse had ever known. It had witnessed all of Jesse’s darkness; it had seen the evil that McCree had possessed, the same evil that he was now letting resurface, and it would continue to watch more blood spill from Jesse’s hand.

 

In spite of it all, though, Jesse spoke of his world with such tenderness that Gabriel could believe it was heaven on earth.

 

“The one thing that Vance said that I can vouch for was that I was never around Deadlock when I didn’t have to be. I chose to live up here instead. Sometimes it sucked, being so far away from everybody, but anything beat having the others try to eat me alive.”

 

Slowly, as if afraid of rejection, Jesse leaned over and placed his head on Gabriel’s shoulder. He didn’t speak any further, and Reyes didn’t push him. McCree would tell his story on his own terms, not anyone else’s.

 

Besides, this was enough for Gabriel. He felt as if he had just been trusted with the most delicate secret; Jesse had allowed him to be a part of his world, let him walk on his hallowed ground. Even if it never happened again, Gabriel would be fine with what he had been given.

 

“You know,” Gabriel said, watching as Jesse sat back up to listen. With one tender motion, he took the flower he had been gifted and tucked it behind Jesse’s ear, brushing some of the hair back with it. “The flower, the view, all of it is beyond beautiful. Trust me, it really is, but I’ll be damned if you aren’t the most handsome thing that I’ve ever seen.”

 

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Jesse let out a pure, genuine, joyful laugh. It wasn’t like when he was around his teammates, it wasn’t forced or strained. It came naturally, like soft summer rain. Even more gracious was the way Jesse’s face lit up with a radiant smile; it was so brilliant that Gabriel was certain the sun would be put to shame.

 

As Gabriel laced their fingers together and placed them in his lap, he smiling softly at Jesse like he was all that Reyes would ever need (and if he were being honest with himself, he could truthfully say that Jesse was an angel, the saving grace that would always keep him safe).

 

“You’re such a dork, Gabe.”

 

“But I’m _your_ dork, so I guess you’re stuck with me, Jess.”

 

“I really do love you,” Jesse said. He let out one last breath of laughter, but the smile remained painted on his face.

 

Jesse burrowed up closer to Gabriel, and they both took a moment to breathe in peace, take in the world around them. Absentmindedly, Gabriel traced his fingers up and down Jesse’s arm.

 

He knew Jesse’s skin as if it were his own, but it had taken him a very long time to earn that privilege. Jesse was ashamed of some parts of himself (as most people were). Gabriel could list them all; one such thing was the Deadlock tattoo, a huge sore spot, even if Jesse denied it and covered it up with lighthearted apathy.

 

Others were the cuts big and small that littered his arms, all of which had apparently come from the torture that his ‘friends’ had given him. Jesse had confided in him one night after a particularly violent nightmare, telling Gabriel things that made him want to vomit and throw punches all at once.

 

Lastly, and probably even a more touchy subject than the tattoo, were very old, faint track marks running along Jesse’s forearm. The tattoo had covered them pretty well, and you couldn’t tell they were there unless you were really looking, but Jesse knew they were there. It bothered him, even if nobody else ever saw them.

 

The first time Gabriel had touched them, he hadn’t even known they were there, but Jesse had jerked away as if he’d been burnt by a fire poker. It took a solid month before Jesse had explained _why_ he reacted that way.

 

Like Dakota had hinted at, Deadlock had apparently learned that if they gave Jesse enough epinephrine injections, he could be forced to use Deadeye faster, completely against Jesse’s will.

 

In Jesse’s mind, those marks signified his hopelessness, how he’d been made to do things he never wanted to do, and to kill people he never wanted to kill.

 

He’d been forced to submit (no doubt with mindless violence) and drugged, then pushed back out into the battlefield while desperately trying to operate and stay alive. The only way to flush that adrenaline out of his system, to end his suffering, was with Deadeye (Angela had explained that to them, that it was why Jesse only did it when stressed, and why he had been so weak and tired after each time).

 

What Jesse said the gang did afterwards, when he was too tired to fend anyone off, too weak from the side effects to keep running, was enough for Gabriel to want to slaughter them all.

 

When Jesse told this to Gabriel, told him of how they’d defiled him, exploited him, broken him beyond repair, he looked so fragile and afraid of rejection that Reyes felt himself become so distraught, so _enraged_ , that his chest ached.

 

Instead of rejecting him, which would never happen anyways, Gabriel showed Jesse his own track marks, caused by the experiments of the Soldier Enhancement Program, or told Jesse about each and every scar that marred his skin (it couldn’t ever compare to what Jesse went through, not in Gabriel’s opinion, but it seemed to help both of them feel less ashamed).

 

Sometimes his wounds and marks were still painful, aching at random times, but he would’ve done all of the experiments and fought the Omnics over and over again, if only to see the relief, the utter love and devotion, in Jesse’s eyes.

 

Gabriel could see the same look in those eyes now, even in the darkness of the night. With all of the tenderness he could muster, Jesse slowly leaned forwards and placed his lips on Gabriel’s.

 

It felt so profound that it was overwhelming. It was like finding each other after a barely-won mission, beyond thankful that the other had lived, their love trying to convey a sentiment that words never could.

 

Between the stress of endless planning and Jesse’s emotional turmoil, it never felt right to do anything intimate (Gabriel just wanted what was best for his partner, and if he felt like Jesse wasn’t in the right state of mind, he would never, _ever_ take advantage of that). Jesse seemed to feel their lack of intimacy more than ever.

 

Tender kisses turned into passion, and before long, Gabriel felt Jesse’s lips trail along his neck, occasionally met with sharp nips from even sharper teeth. Gabriel felt Jesse’s hand untwine from his own and dance across his thigh; it moved higher and higher, and Gabriel felt himself sigh with pleasure when Jesse’s hand reached his crotch, moving to unbuckled his belt.

 

It was with colossal strength that he moved Jesse’s hand away. The kisses continued, though, and Gabriel was certain he was supporting a few new hickeys just below his neckline.

 

“Jess,” Gabriel said. He sounded as weak as he felt. “Not that I don’t want this right now, and believe me, I _really_ fucking do, but we’re on a rock cliff.”

 

Jesse snorted so loudly that Gabriel was certain that it hurt, but it made Reyes himself laugh a little, too. Maybe this was what Jesse had needed; just a little moment in a peaceful place, seemingly far away from heavy deadlines and the weight of the world on his shoulders.

 

 _This_ was the Jesse that Gabriel remembered, the soft, loving man that was so full of life that he could burst. Perhaps bringing McCree back to the desert wasn’t all that bad. Not yet, at least.

 

“We should get going, huh?” Jesse said. He stood with reluctance, but held his hand out to Gabriel, helping him stand safely from his spot. “The others probably think I’ve killed you and dragged your body off the cliff.”

 

“You say that like you’ve thought about it.”

 

Jesse chuckled, and his mischievous voice echoed through the cave as he disappeared back through the dreaded hole in the wall. Gabriel had to force his way back through it (it seemed like it was harder the second time around, but maybe it was just because of the howling laughter pointing out his shame).

 

When he finally made it through, Gabriel watched as Jesse climbed the rocky walls with such ease that it looked as if he were flying. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he jumped from one wall to the next, climbing higher and higher until he was finally out.

 

Well, that was new.

 

Jesse wasn’t clumsy, per se, especially now that he was older; he could be rather graceful from time to time as well. Still, there were many moments where Jesse found himself tripping over his own feet, getting easily tangled up in something, or just overall falling for no apparent reason.

 

As long as Jesse was okay, Gabriel could laugh at him for his lack of finesse. He had always been a bit gangly, and it seemed he still had some growing to do (if his growth spurt continued, then maybe Jesse _would_ turn out to be a titan like Gabriel and Jack after all).

 

What Jesse had just done, however, was so smooth and perfect that he didn’t even make a sound. He moved as silently as if he had been on flat ground (and even then, the climbing might’ve actually been quieter). With this newfound skill, Gabriel could see how Jesse could outlive Deadlock.

 

You can’t kill what you can’t catch.

 

To back up that notion, Gabriel observed that no loose rocks crumbled under Jesse’s weight. There was no loud breathing to suggest this was a strenuous activity, not even a single damn slip up. It was honestly stunning.

 

Gabriel was much less quiet as he clambered out of the crevice; he could feel the rocks under his feet give way, hitting the ground beneath him with a loud thud as he hoisted himself back onto the flat desert sand. Jesse wasn’t necessarily laughing at him, but he certainly looked amused.

 

“For the commander of a black ops organization, you’re pretty fucking loud,” he teased.

 

Gabriel only huffed at him, and gave him a playful shove when he got back onto his feet. He knew his lack of grace would stay between them, as would the rest of their encounter.

 

The only witness they had was the desert.

 

If it held any affection for the boy it had raised, which it seemed to, then perhaps it enjoyed finally seeing something full of love instead of hatred.

 

Still, the desert was the only one who _wouldn’t_ ask questions, so they would have to make up some sort of tale to pacify the curious minds of the Strike Team. As they slowly walked back to the camp (Gabriel couldn’t even see it, thanks to the rocky mounds that surrounded it), they began to spew out outrageous stories to each other.

 

Jesse seemed to find each one of Gabriel’s ideas more amusing than the last, even when Jesse himself ceased voicing his own, but the hilarity suddenly died when Jesse stopped dead in his tracks.

 

Even when Jesse’s head dropped slowly, hair shielding his face like a funeral pall, the trembling of his shoulders and the light hitching of his breath gave away the situation; Jesse was crying.

 

Well, it made sense as to why he had stopped talking now.

 

It was such a quick change that Gabriel stopped, too, almost faster than he could comprehend (his partner had, understandably, been prone to those kinds of mood swings lately). He moved in front of Jesse’s quaking body and knelt down, taking the one hand that wasn’t wiping away snot and tears into his own.

 

“Easy now, Jess. Take it easy,” Gabriel said. Each tear that landed on their hands felt like acid to his skin, and he wanted nothing more than for this pain to stop. “What’s the matter? What’s got you upset?”

 

It wasn’t particularly violent crying, like Gabriel had gotten used to. Instead, it was quiet. There were no screams, no loud, agonized noises, only soft little hiccups and jerky breathing. It didn’t feel any better, though. If anything, it only felt worse.

 

“They’re all gonna die, Gabe. ALL of them. We can’t-“ A particularly hard tremor racked Jesse’s body, and his sentence was cut off with a sudden, more brutal wave of tears.

 

Hopelessness.

 

If Gabriel were to describe what he could hear in Jesse’s voice, it would be hopelessness.

 

With every sudden whine, every little droplet of water, Gabriel could feel the void in his chest growing until it was too painful for him to bear. He could feel the lump in the back of his throat and the sting in his eyes. Right now, though, he couldn’t cry. It would only make Jesse feel worse.

 

Instead, Gabriel rose from the ground and pulled Jesse straight into his arms (he probably wouldn’t have done so out of respect if Jesse hadn’t explicitly asked him to when he had those kinds of spells), holding him tightly as he openly weeped.

 

“It’ll be okay, Jesse. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Gabriel said, but he was only met with lost, desperate noes, suddenly so distressed that it was almost a garbled scream instead of an adamant cry.

 

It felt like a lifetime before Jesse was calmed down, but Gabriel was willing to stay there for days if that’s what it took. He still trembled, still hiccuped every few breaths, but he was certainly better.

 

Better or not, though, Gabriel’s heart was utterly broken.

 

Here was the man he loved so deeply, so profoundly, that sometimes it physically hurt; Jesse was a man that he would gladly die for and spend the rest of his life with, even if he had to suffer the entire way to get to that point.

 

Gabriel loved Jesse more than he had ever loved anything or anyone else, but he couldn’t prevent the pain his partner was going through.

 

What Jesse was experiencing was unimaginable to Gabriel, and not for the first time, he wished he could take Jesse’s place.

 

“Better now?” Gabriel asked. Carefully, he moved Jesse back so he could look at him, and gently cleaned the snot and tear stains with his sleeve. “I could call Jack for you if you wanted. I know he’s on standby. You can talk to him, or maybe Angela if she’s awake, if you don’t feel like you can talk to me. It’s whatever you want, Jesse.”

 

“I might call Jack tomorrow, before we... start everything. Do you think that’ll be okay?”

 

Gabriel smiled, and gave Jesse a tender kiss on his forehead, intertwining their hands. With a gentle pull, Gabriel led Jesse back to the camp. He felt safe in the knowledge that his other agents, Jesse’s friends, would turn their heads for their teammate’s comfort.

 

“I think that’ll be just fine. For now, though, let’s just get you to bed.”

 

——

 

True to his word, when Gabriel awoke the next morning, he called Jack for Jesse and let the two of them talk while he moved around the camp.

 

The sun had yet to rise, and wouldn’t rise for another few hours. All of his agents were pilfering around in the darkness, the bright lanterns they had hung from their tents being the only light source. They all seemed to gather around the duffel bag of food (the one that Jesse still glared at every time he passed it) before settling down to eat. Everyone but Victor seemed dead on their feet.

 

Gabriel felt a certain kinship with Giroux. The two of them both shared the same sleeping struggles, almost always awake at any given time, and both very weary from their jobs.

 

Just like Gabriel, Victor cared immensely for Jesse, but there were no sexual feelings between them (the medic was asexual, if Reyes remembered correctly, and everyone respected that). There was no romance, either. Everything between them was platonic and, according to the rest of Blackwatch, it was fucking adorable.

 

Jesse and Victor had a bit of a bromance, and it was so well-known amongst Gabriel’s men that everyone used it as the epitome of friendship. The two were, thankfully, very good sports about it. They even decided to run with it whenever they could.

 

Gabriel had once witnessed the two of them playfully swooning into each other’s arms, three sheets to the wind, flattering one another immensely during a Christmas party. It was so adorable thatBlackwatch and Overwatch alike laughed at the silliness of it all.

 

Gabriel couldn’t help but smile as Victor tossed him a bag of gummies. The poor medic seemed exasperated at the contents of duffel bag.

 

“Literally nothing in here has good nutritional value,” Victor said. “I can’t believe we put Jonathan and Esme of all people in charge of food. Hell, they packed half the bag full of _alcohol_ , Reyes, and it’s the kind with glass bottles. That is so stupid.”

 

Victor sighed, adding, “What if they broke? We have no use for them, and apparently we’re having a lovely picnic, too, considering they packed a tablecloth.”

 

Gabriel, despite his austere appearances, couldn’t help but start cackling. He moved to stand where Victor was and observed the contents of the bag; just like Giroux had said, underneath all of the snacks and sodas were bottles of alcohol, and even further down was a white, cottony tablecloth.

 

“I wouldn’t put anything past those two,” Gabriel said, “But we’ll be out of here soon enough. You can worry about our healthy lifestyles and weird drinking habits when we get home.”

 

The medic smiled at Gabriel’s teasing, and pulled out a variety of snacks for himself. Despite his calm demeanor, Gabriel could see the lines of worry etched into Victor’s face, the way he more picked at his food than ate it. It wasn’t just Victor, though.

 

They were _all_ nervous.

 

Gabriel could see how everyone had a certain tension as they gathered around the middle of the camp, almost subconsciously. Despite the bleariness that masked their faces, all of his agents were waiting with bated breath. They were apprehensive, but they trusted Gabriel.

 

The men looked to their commander for guidance, for any way to get out of this situation without sacrificing too much of themselves and their humanity. They looked for Gabriel to lead them, but this wasn’t Gabriel’s mission.

 

Today, he would lead no one.

 

Victor seemed to realize that before anyone else. He looked as if he wanted to ask Gabriel a question, but he quickly shut his mouth as Jesse exited his tent. Probably a wise choice.

 

Jesse seemed soothed by his conversation with Jack; from what Gabriel had overheard, it was mainly about the flowers that Jesse loved, and how Jack had offered to let the kid keep some on the base if he wanted. There was the occasional odd whisper, but everything else was normal.

 

It didn’t ease all of the anxiety, but nothingprobably ever would. Not now, especially since Gabriel called everyone to sit down and pulled Jesse into the middle with him.

 

Well, it was now or never.

 

“I know you’re all still asleep, but listen up,” Gabriel said. “This mission is a bit of a special case. We all know that. As such, I’m delegating my control as commander to agent McCree until our assignment is over. You’ll go to him and listen for his instruction unless I deem it necessary to override his orders. Any objections?”

 

Gabriel had easily convinced himself that if Jesse could’ve objected, he would’ve, but instead, he found that McCree looked willing to accept the position he had been given.

 

Likewise, all of the agents gave out a firm, determined ‘no, sir’. No objections. They knew the nature of the beast, that it would honestly be safer with Jesse telling them what to do.

 

Not that they didn’t trust Gabriel; no, they trusted the commander with their lives. Jesse was just a better fit for this.

 

Thank God Gabriel had been grooming Jesse to be his second-in-command (or, worse case scenario, to be the new commander should anything happen to Gabriel). Everybody knew it. It was why the others, playful as they were, gave him a lot of shit about it, like when they all snickered at Gabriel’s introduction of Jesse back on the Orca. They found it amusingly paradoxical that Reyes had introduced McCree last, because he _certainly_ wasn’t the least.

 

Still, everyone had to give the kid props; he seemed to take the authority and power like a duck to water. Didn’t seem to go crazy with it, either.

 

Unlike many others, Jesse had no innate desire to dictate anyone, really only himself, for self-discipline. Even when it came to power, Gabriel felt as if Jesse wouldn’t demand respect. It would be willingly given; respect was a two-way street that, thanks to Gabriel’s kindness, the kid was very familiar with. As long as he lived, Jesse would never forget how Gabriel had given him honor when he had none.

 

When Jesse used those teachings, used his own struggles and pain as fuel for compassion and understanding, Gabriel was certain his protégé would do just fine.

 

“Right,” Jesse said. “We discussed some of this during the preliminary meetings, but now that we’re actually out on the field, it’ll be easier.”

 

For a good while, Jesse went into depth about what exactly he proposed they do; they had learned that Deadlock’s base was heavily reliant on and formed in the cracks and crevices of the canyons, and that McCree had practically placed their camp right on top of their enemy. The shorter drop off and subsequent plains was where they were headed. That was where everything would truly go down.

 

Jesse had their positions down pat, too; Gabriel would be with him, and they would go straight into the fray.

 

Jonathan would stay a good ways back (a little over half a mile, Gabriel noticed) to do his technological magic, making sure all of their comm systems were secure and functional. It was also his job to report anything happening up on the plateau, since everyone else would be down on the plains.

 

Esme would be on the ground with Kara as her partner. They were to report any traps that they found and disable them, but they had to check with Jesse since some traps were _meant_ to explode once ‘disabled’. Jesse had warned them that some of them could be completely and utterly harmless, appearing like duds, but the trap not three feet to the left could activate and kill them, or maim them at the very least.

 

Victor would be on standby. Jesse seemed to really emphasize how important it would be for him to be ready to come running, and that made Gabriel more nervous than it should’ve. Well, truthfully, the things that Jesse was preparing the other agents for was a good enough stressor.

 

“Also, Esme. Did you get what I asked?” Jesse asked. “And Kara, can I borrow from you supplies?”

 

Both women nodded, and went to fetch their separate bags. Sosa brought the duffel bag of food to Jesse with a bright, mischievous smile. He returned her expression and pulled out a few of the bottles of alcohol, along with the cotton tablecloth that Victor had found earlier. The two of them worked together to pull out the entire stash before Kara brought her supplies, and then Jesse started digging until he found containers of motor oil.

 

It took Gabriel a whole of three seconds to realize what Jesse was doing.

 

“Why the _hell_ are you making Molotovs?” His voice carried notes of exasperation, worry, but also eager curiosity. He knew Jesse would only pick up on the latter.

 

“Trust me,” Jesse said as he opened the bottles, mixing in a little of the motor oil while Sosa cut the tablecloth. “This is gonna work a _whole_ lot better than grenades. We throw a bomb and the entire place goes down with us in it.”

 

Gabriel did trust him, he trusted that judgment, and about an hour later, the entire team had packed up their camp and headed out towards their destination, Molotovs in tow.

 

It took them a little while, considering they were weighed down, but they got there in about an hour, hour and fifteen.

 

It was about one mile to get to the creek (they filled up on water there, just in case), and then another mile and a half to reach the outskirts of the drop off. It was there they sat up a small, temporary base.

 

There, they geared up and loaded their guns, preparing to finally descend down the cliff. Jesse only had on his chest armor, which, compared to the others, was very bare and exposing (although, his ammunition belt was pretty loaded down compared to normal, and Gabriel had _made_ _sure_ that he’d given his knife to Jesse to hide in his boot).

 

Come to think of it, Jesse’s entire outfit was different then what he usually wore.

 

He had traded his Blackwatch clothing for something simple; his shirt was not made for missions, but instead was a generic white button-up (although Gabriel could still make out the black athletic shirt underneath, considering the collar was snug against the base of his neck. He could also see Jesse’s dog tags hidden beneath the tight fabric), the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His normal pants had been replaced with dark jeans, and his boots were plain and brown, still decorated with those classic silver spurs.

 

Gabriel was honestly a little flattered when he saw a red bandana around Jesse’s neck, the one that he had given the kid the first year that they’d met. It was a personal touch. It reminded Gabriel of how Ana would carry trinkets Fareeha had given her, or how Jonathan would wear his husband’s wedding band into every single battle.

 

They were permanent fixtures to remind them who and what they were fighting for.

 

Bandana aside, both Jesse’s belt and Peacekeeper were the constants in his outfit, the only new additions being the Molotovs that Jesse planned on using instead of his normal Flashbangs (as an afterthought, Gabriel remembered how both Ana and Jack had been surprised that Jesse had basically been concocting and mass producing his own fucking grenades for years). All in all, McCree was an odd mix of new and old.

 

Gabriel would have to be stupid to not realize where he had seen that outfit before, though; it was practically identical to the one that Jesse had worn when he’d been captured.

 

“You look good, kid,” Gabriel said, tossing McCree’s earpiece at him while adjusting his own. “You ready for this?”

 

Jesse cleared his throat (Gabriel knew from experience that it was more of a sign of nervousness than anything). His hand fiddled with the end of Peacekeeper as he looked down at the world below them.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He paused, as if debating with himself for a moment as to what he needed to do. “What I was try to say last night, I just really need you to hear me. No matter who you see, you’re going to have to kill them.”

 

Reyes felt a twinge of dread pooling up in his stomach as he stared at Jesse. He felt a little unsure if he had heard the kid correctly. Kill everyone? It wasn’t a new tactic by any means, but to deploy it here, with such a small gang? It might’ve been war, but Talon was the real threat, not Deadlock.

 

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked. The way Jesse looked away and back down into the valley made Gabriel even more apprehensive.

 

“I mean,” Jesse started, “That it doesn’t matter how young or how old they are. It doesn’t matter if they’re male or female, healthy or starved, armed or unarmed, or anything else like that. You _have_ to shoot them, Gabriel.”

 

Reyes started to speak, but Jesse quickly interrupted him. The hopelessness from the night before was lingering in his words. This time, though, the rest of the world was watching; no tears would fall today, at least not now.

 

“Before you say anything, I have to say my piece. I... I don’t _want_ to do this. If I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to kill anybody today, but I know that’s not gonna happen. It _can’t_  happen.”

 

Jesse paused, and his face soured with displeasure, as if it were taking all of his willpower not to scream.

 

“If we don’t kill all of them, or at least try to, then all of this will keep happening. Year after year, we’ll have to come out here and repeat the process. More people will die, and no matter how much I fucking _dread_ what we’re about to do, I know I have to do it.”

 

Gabriel understood. He didn’t want to, but he did. Jesse’s plan made complete and utter sense when it came to their goals and the tactics that they would need to achieve them, and that was what made Jesse great, wasn’t it? His plans were usually foolproof. They were objective and precise and exact.

 

Regretfully, though, that meant that compassion and sympathy were too often tossed aside in order to achieve the ‘greater good’, or whatever the hell that phrase meant to them anymore. Like Jesse had asked him one night, who _really_ had the right to choose what was right and wrong? Who could honestly choose whether to rightly give compassion or spurn it?

 

Deadlock, though, they didn’t deserve any compassion, they didn’t deserve sympathy, and Jesse knew that better than most. It wouldn’t make the killing any less painful, but it could be compartmentalized easier with logic (Gabriel knew that from personal experience).

 

“You ready to go? Time is _really_ of the essence,” Jesse said. Gabriel nodded in response, and listened as McCree called out the orders for Kara and Sosa to descend off the left side (he had directed them to a worn path that, while dangerous, would lead them straight to where Jesse wanted them to go).

 

For a brief moment, Jesse held out his hand. Gabriel took it without hesitation.

 

The action couldn’t help but make Reyes feel as if it carried some sort of finality, some heavy burden that came to signify an end. Still, comfort flooded his heart, and it was enough to give him strength to push those feelings away.

 

They had each other, they could survive this.

 

As soon as they let go, Jesse was on the run, dashing so quickly towards the edge that Gabriel was concerned he might just jump off. Instead, he started to climb down.

 

There were several large stones and outcroppings that acted as checkpoints, ensuring that the journey down wasn’t too treacherous if the climber knew what they were doing and could reach a spot in time.

 

Jesse obviously knew just what to do. As Gabriel followed him down (albeit a bit slower, especially considering the sun had just barely started to turn the sky grey), he could tell that Jesse could move so swiftly due to having done this a thousand times over. He seemed familiar with each and every rock, and he made it safely to the bottom in no time.

 

He waited patiently for Gabriel to join him, but as soon as Reyes was on the ground, Jesse was on the move again. He was running steadily to the right, towards the mining facilities.

 

“Sosa, Karasek, have you made it down safely?” Jesse asked. He made no move to stop as he talked, and Gabriel could only commend him for his determination.

 

“We made it down without incident. We’re making our way towards the settlement now to disable any traps,” Esme said.

 

“Good. Watch out for land mines. They’re pretty noticeable, but don’t be reckless, alright? Those things aren’t the harmless ones. They’ll _really_ fuck you up, so watch your step.”

 

Gabriel could hear Sosa and Kara let out a confident affirmative, but he couldn’t help be feel overwhelmingly worried. It was hard enough to see land mines during the day, let alone when the sun wasn’t even up. There were other traps they had to worry about, too.

 

Jesse had told them to watch out for trip wires or anything resembling them, but not because they were necessarily a bomb that was ready to go. Some of the rigs were set up to sound off alarms (as if the whole place exploding wasn’t the biggest fucking alarm in and of itself).

 

Still, while Gabriel could worry about his other agents, both his and Jesse’s current health was his main concern.

 

The concern grew into curiosity when they stopped just shy of the mining facilities.

 

Up close, Gabriel could see the place for what it truly was. The railways were too perfect to be unused, and the building itself, while old, had been reinforced with newer wooden beams to prevent it from collapsing. It looked like an entrance if there ever was one.

 

A little ways away, maybe four hundred feet, was the mouth of one of the large chasms that split the into plateau, but as far as Gabriel could tell, it was blocked off by what looked to be firm wooden planks. They spanned a good seven feet above the ground. Quietly, Jesse motioned for Gabriel to move go stand by the boards, but not touch start removing them. He ended up about thirty feet away from them, and continued to watch Jesse from the long distance between them.

 

Jesse got to work as soon as Gabriel got into position. Reyes saw a small flame from a lighter flicker in the darkness, and watched Jesse quickly, carefully roll two lit bottles a good distance into the entrance, leaving him with the last one.

 

“Guns out, boss. Shit’s about to go down,” Jesse said over the comms. “And Sosa, Karasek, be prepared to fight. You’re about to have some company.”

 

Gabriel watched Jesse light the last Molotov and throw it straight at the broadside of the wooden building, then take Peacekeeper out of her holster. He took a moment to aim before shooting into the entrance. With what Gabriel knew to be perfect precision, two shots rang out into the chasm, hitting the other two bottles and causing them explode.

 

Nothing happened for about a solid minute, with the exception of the mining structure starting to burn with a vengeance. It was spreading fast and consuming the dry wood much more rapidly than Gabriel had expected. Only after the building started to groan and collapse did Reyes hear calamity inside of the chasm.

 

At first, the noise could easily be mistaken for the screeching of a mine cart on rusty tracks, or even a few wild animals causing a ruckus. As more and more of the sounds joined the cacophonous choir, however, there was no mistaking what the noise truly was.

 

It was screaming.

 

Loud, petrified screaming.

 

“Everything okay down there?” Jonathan suddenly called. He didn’t sound particularly concerned, probably more curious than anything. “A lot of the chasms are starting to blow out some serious smoke, pretty sure I see some fire up top, too. You open up Hell or something?”

 

“Just make sure to steer clear of anything,” Jesse commanded. “If you see anyone running, shoot them on site.”

 

Gabriel chose to ignore the callousness with which Jesse spoke in order to listen to his surroundings.

 

It seemed like there was an endless sea of voices. Some of them were calling out in fear, trying to desperately escape whatever was going on inside, while others were barking commands with such a rough tone that it put some of the military sergeants to shame. It was becoming so loud that Gabriel almost didn’t hear Jesse come up beside him, Peacekeeper ready to go.

 

The stampede of noise got closer until Gabriel could see people forcefully pushing at the boards closing up the canyon, doing so until it gave way. There was hardly enough room for the people escaping out of the exit, especially when they all tried to run out together; ten, twenty, twenty-five, thirty people all rushing out, even trampling one another to flee from the fires raging inside.

 

Gabriel felt troubled when he noticed that this was nowhere near the amount of men that he had been expecting. Deadlock had been gifted Talon’s troopers for their war in New Mexico; thirty people would hardly be capable of committing such extensive crimes.

 

Still, Jesse had to know what he was doing, right? There’s no way he would’ve just lead them all into assisting his personal vendetta. He would never do that to them.

 

Right?

 

Personal crisis aside, everything and everyone was all so panicked that it was hard to focus. It was even a lot for Gabriel, too. When he observed the people running out, he noticed that some of them were half naked, or were fully clothed but in what one might consider pajamas. He swore one man was naked with the exception of boxers.

 

Obviously the people inside had been resting before they’d been smoked out (it made sense now, why Jesse wanted them up at a very, _very_ specific time). Gabriel almost felt it wrong to shoot.

 

It didn’t seem that way for Jesse, though. No, he shot first.

 

A few bullets later, and six people had fallen to the ground. The perfect entry wounds had effortlessly decorated vitals (no doubt meaning the people had been killed instantly), and it was this merciless act that forced Gabriel out of his stupor.

 

“Follow me, and stay close,” Jesse said, and he ran headfirst into the entrance, firing as he went. Some of the people were now starting to draw their own guns (the ones who had thought to grab them, anyways).

 

The thunderous crack of Gabriel’s shotguns rang throughout the caves as he trailed behind Jesse. Some of the gang members were screaming curses as they tried to follow the two back into the chasm, but those who were stupid enough to do so were shot full of lead. The smarter ones chose to fall back, steering clear of the smoke they’d just left. The stranglers that were still trying to escape were killed as well.

 

“Trouble up above,” Jonathan suddenly called, and the familiar ‘ _click_ , _boom_ ’ of an Overwatch pistol rang out through the comms. “I mean, there’s not a lot as far as I can tell, but I’m pretty damn hidden. I can’t see much, so just be careful.”

 

Jesse barked out some form of acknowledgement and continued to push forward. With most of the targets dead in the immediate vicinity (or running, if they were fast enough to escape death), Gabriel found himself devoting his attention to trying to stay close to Jesse.

 

The rifts in the plateau had formed an endless labyrinth, and it certainly didn’t help that smoke was starting to travel through the crevices, either. Even though they were a good distance away from the origin, the fire was travailing quickly on the high wooden platforms and old support beams that twisted into every part of the caves.

 

Nearly every pathway they ran through had _some_ form of wood, including planks that acted as makeshift bridges over large, gaping holes in the earth. It would be hard to get out when those burned down, Gabriel thought.

 

As a consequence of all the destruction, smoke was rapidly growing thicker, becoming more of a threat as the wind fed the fire and carried it through every entry it could find.

 

“Where are we going, McCree?” Gabriel asked, but Jesse didn’t answer him right away.

 

Actually, he didn’t answer him at all; it was as if he hadn’t heard Reyes in the first place, even though Gabriel knew that was from from the case.

 

Instead, Jesse moved at a swift, constant pace, practically running as he pushed further and further into the maze.

 

They really did need to push further in; a lot of the ground had become covered in boards, not just bridging gaps, and were probably placed there to make the ground more even (most likely another remnant from the mining days). If they didn’t hurry, they would join the growing piles of ash and cinder.

 

Still, despite the fast pace, Gabriel had enough time to look around, so long as he did it quickly.

 

He would never admit it, but the entirety of this base’s layout and the resourcefulness of those who had made itwere too clever (and truthfully, it was just a _little_ _bit_ impressive). On both his right and left, he could see caves big and small being competently utilized; nothing went wasted or unused, and Gabriel could suddenly see where Jesse had learned some of his parsimonious ways.

 

In one large cavern off to the side, Gabriel could make out a room full of beds, both settled on frames or placed on the ground. Lights powered by generators off in the corner dispensed energy to the entire room, and if he had seen correctly, they also supplied electricity to some old-school arcade games and a few shitty TVs along the walls. As they ran, Gabriel could see that there were a few more barrack-like areas similar to that one.

 

In another sizable cave was (almost unsurprisingly) a bar, or some form of a recreational room at the very least. Bright Christmas lights had been strung up and draped themselves from the ceiling. Rough, old tables and chairs scattered the area, along with more arcade games and what looked to be a dilapidated pool table. Crates of alcohol and drinking glasses were stacked haphazardly behind a long table that probably served as the bar itself. It actually look... homey?

 

Most of the other caves they passed were turned into storage. Crate after crate, box after box, it all seemed to pile up quickly and easily in the small spaces, but it honestly looked like it was just supplies. For Deadlock being a major weapons dealer, there was a big lack of weapons in the base. Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder why.

 

Those thoughts would have to wait, though. Navigating the labyrinth was his top priority, and apparently so was keeping Jesse from dying.

 

By the time Jesse had stopped running, the poor kid was horribly out of breath, and his muscles trembled from his relentless pace (if Gabriel remembered correctly, Jesse had only stood still long enough to throw the Molotovs, and he hadn’t stopped running before or since then).

 

He had halted so suddenly that Gabriel was almost caught off guard, and would’ve continued on if Jesse hadn’t pulled him back with so much force that both of them fell onto the ground.

 

“Bad idea, bad idea!” Jesse said. He was panting from his exertion. Despite the relatively strong breaths, Gabriel could hear a wheeze every time McCree’s lungs expanded; he knew the smoke was starting to get to Jesse now that the fire was spreading closer and closer

 

Thank God for SEP, which helped him withstand that kind of shit.

 

As carefully as he could, Gabriel hoisted both Jesse and himself off of the ground, then proceeded to yank Jesse’s bandana off his neck.

 

“What are you doing?” McCree asked between his breaths, but he made no effort to stop whatever it was that Gabriel wanted to do.

 

Reyes untied the bandana and then placed it over Jesse’s face, allowing it to settle onto the bridge of his nose and cover the lower half of his face. It was drenched in sweat, but that would help block out the smoke better.

 

Gabriel couldn’t bear the thought of Jesse making it so far into this mission, into this _life_ , only to be killed by something as stupid as smoke inhalation. If Jesse were to die, he wouldn’t just wither away in a cloud of smoke; no, he would most certainly go out with a bang.

 

“Keep that up unless you absolutely need it down,” Gabriel commanded, and Jesse nodded.

 

Gabriel refocused himself, looking at the long, narrow passage that Jesse had stopped him from running down. Nothing seemed to jump out at Gabriel. There were no hostiles, no blazing guns or obvious traps. The wooden boards covering the ground weren’t really out of place. The only thing that might’ve hinted at some sort of danger was the sudden lack of cover from above.

 

Most of the base was hidden under outcroppings and remnants of mining platforms, so even if one _did_ happen to look down into the chasms from the plateau (like Gabriel and his team had), then you probably wouldn’t even notice there was an entire gang hiding away in the shadows.

 

This pathway, though, was almost completely exposed. The exposure felt even more amplified since they had taken an inclined path, slowly working their way up closer to the surface. They were still momentarily under cover and safe from being out in the open, but it was only a small comfort in the grand scheme of things.

 

The canyon walls were still a good fifteen, maybe twenty feet tall, but it was a bit more unnerving than if they had been lower down. The way that Jesse was acting was the worst of all; he looked as if they were both somehow pinned down.

 

Jesse glared relentlessly up into the opening of the chasm, then down the hallways, and once again to the sky. A few small chunks of rock crumbled down and landed onto the ground in front of them.

 

“What’s up there?” Gabriel asked. If McCree had stopped him, then there had to be a good reason.

 

From the way he acted, Jesse wasn’t really paying any attention to Gabriel. He was just... thinking. More accurately, he was being calculative, weighing his options.

 

More than likely, Jesse was probably recreating a shit ton of scenarios in his head, most of which would certainly give Gabriel a headache if he were to try and keep up with them all.

 

Gabriel was thankful for a moment, despite the circumstances, that this was the same Jesse that he was used to seeing.

 

It was a huge jump in the right direction compared to the rashness that McCree had been showing throughout this entire thing (emotions could be hell, and Gabriel understood that. It was just worrying). This seemed like the _true_ Jesse, the one who was so tactical and brilliant that it made Gabriel almost sympathetic to the enemies they fought against.

 

This time, though, the tactical thinking seemed to be directed towards Gabriel himself, who wasn’t really sure how comfortable he was with that. It seemed so... mild, though. Jesse looked more pained than anything, devoid of the enthusiastic ruthlessness that was often associated with that expression. For whatever reason, Gabriel felt a pang of dread in his chest.

 

“Do you trust me?” Jesse asked, and his voice was so low, such a quietly, muted whisper that it could’ve easily been lost in the wind.

 

Did Gabriel... trust him? Of course he did, but where was this coming from?

 

“You know I do, Jesse.”

 

McCree seemed so resigned that Reyes felt a horrible need to comfort him. With sluggish movements, Jesse took the earpiece out of his ear, along with the true comm that he had been given (they were both connected to the same radio frequency, but the comm relayed the signal more clearly to the earpiece as long as it was close by). He handed both things to Gabriel.

 

“So, uh, there’s a bunch of things that might happen, and it’s either gonna be... well, it won’t be good, but let’s just hope it’s not bad,” Jesse said. With a nervous laugh, he added, “It’s just a hunch, mixed with a bit of... _experience_.”

 

Gabriel wanted to object, he wanted to push Jesse back and force him to think about his actions, his consequences, or just about anything to keep him there. Anything to keep him alive. Truthfully, Gabriel didn’t even know what Jesse was talking about, but the way he looked, the way he asked for trust, it was more than enough for Gabriel to come to a grim conclusion.

 

Jesse could die.

 

Whatever he was doing, whatever he thought might happen to him, it was all just a reckless gamble, and for what?

 

Now, Gabriel could often hold his thoughts and feelings in during a mission, keep them under control until later, but he felt like an android short-circuiting. He couldn’t even lift his arm to hold Jesse back as he stepped out into the pathway. In that moment, though, the way Jesse looked would forever be burned into Gabriel’s memory.

 

The rising sun shined like the brilliant red of the Blanket Flower in an endless sea of gold, even managing to break through the thick clouds of smoke. To Gabriel, though, even the luminous sun could never compare to the radiance of Jesse McCree. He was a glorious, blazing fire; he was a god masquerading as a man, as if he could hide the divinity he shared so selflessly with others.

 

It was... breathtaking.

 

Even the simple observance of this was enough to make Gabriel’s memories play like a film; suddenly, they were telling stories at a blazing campfire on a mission in Morocco. Next, they were fighting in Rialto, trying to blend in at a masquerade under soft candlelight. Lastly... lastly was Gabriel’s favorite memory.

 

They were in Gabriel’s room, watching the sun set outside the window as the radio played on and on. Although he wasn’t really listening, Gabriel complained when Jesse stopped his music. Of course, Jesse asked for his patience, that he had a good surprise (“I swear you’ll love it, Gabe!”), and not a minute later, a soft, sweet melody filled the air. Jesse took him by the hand and danced them around in their small, shared room, and at that exact moment, Gabriel knew with all of his heart that he loved Jesse. He _loved_ him.

 

It was only when the bomb dropped, when the earth shattered, that Gabriel realized nothing could ever shield Jesse from death. Not even love.


	3. Only One Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel to Jesse: I’m 100% confident in your loyalty to me and Blackwatch!
> 
> Gabriel to Gabriel: Mm, but are you really tho?
> 
>  
> 
> Time to end this! I love cute character growth btw, and my boys are beautiful and they need love

The explosion was so violent that it had enough force to send Gabriel flying, throwing him back the way they’d came. He landed so roughly onto his back (he was thankful for his armor, which managed to keep some of the larger splinter out of his skin) that the wind was knocked out of him, and the smoke really didn’t help his efforts in catching his breath. He realized his ears were ringing, once he got enough oxygen back.

 

Ringing ears seemed like the least of Gabriel problems at the moment. It felt as if his left leg were on fire.Surely it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t; this was a pain he was morbidly familiar with. One look down confirmed what he had suspected.

 

Small chunks of gravel were scattered all about Gabriel, landing on his chest and face and arms, but a sizable rock had landed straight on his leg and scraped it to the point of bleeding. His bone had been fractured (of course it’d been, because why fucking not?), and no doubt he would be bruised and limping for a good, long while.

 

When he threw the rock to the side and it almost made no sound, Gabriel cursed and hissed to himself; broken leg, damaged hearing, what else could _possibly_ go wrong?

 

Even though it felt like he was listening through cotton, Gabriel could hear the canyon walls roaring as another wave of rocks shattered apart and collapsed, followed by what sounded like a whole round of cursing from up above.

 

“Shit, did we actually kill him?”

 

“I certainly hope so.”

 

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? I mean, he looks pretty dead to me, but still.”

 

“Why don’t you boys go check it out?”

 

“Fuck no! Let’s just leave him, alright? The dynamite’s made this part unstable, and I don’t wanna end up like McCree.”

 

“Alright, sure, whatever. The rest of the place is already up in flames. We need to make sure our shit is still good back in the gorge, so I reckon we could swing by the Panorama Diner-“

 

“You don’t want to check on the weapons, you just wanna stuff your face, you fat-ass!”

 

“Shut the fuck up, killing makes me hungry!”

 

None of those voices seemed to belong to Jesse (it was a little hard to discern between speakers, but you didn’t go three years without knowing what your partner sounded like). They talked about him, even as they walked away and disappeared. Everything they said made Gabriel want to scream. They were unimportant, though.

 

Jesse. _Where_ _was_ _Jesse_?

 

Gabriel pushed himself to move faster than his body was prepared for, his leg and his lungs screaming for him to stop, but he didn’t care. All he could care about was the sudden colossal wall of boulders keeping him separate from the other side. He prayed to God that Jesse wasn’t under the rubble.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, where are you?” Gabriel called (even his own voice sounded like he was talking under water when it reached his ears), but he was doubtful that Jesse could even hear him if he was still alive.

 

No answer, and Gabriel felt himself becoming more desperate by the moment. He couldn’t climb the wall with his leg, not in a reasonable amount of time, and he hated to admit that he would have to stay still and let SEP take over his healing for a while.

 

He could hear more than feel the way the SEP was reconstructing whatever damage the explosion had done to his ears. He’d lost his hearing once, back in the Omnic Crisis, but he hated every single second it took to bring it back. Jesse... he didn’t have the luxury of enhancements. He could be easily killed, irreparably mutilated. He could crushed and burned and broken, and unless they had medical help, he could die. Even then, it might not be enough.

 

Gabriel stopped himself. He couldn’t think like that (at least not until everything was over), and he had to make sure Jesse was okay. Against his better judgment, he tried to force himself to climb. If his broken leg wouldn’t make him stop, the loose rocks that slipped from under his feet certainly could. Gabriel fell straight onto his back and onto the ground.

 

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he hissed, and pushed himself up, leaning against the rock wall.

 

Suddenly, his elbow slipped.

 

Gabriel, at first, was ready to scream out every single nasty phrase he had ever learned in his entire life. He just wanted to rest against the rocks and think, was that too much to ask? When he looked down at where his elbow had been, however, he felt he might scream for another reason.

 

Formed roughly in the wall was a small, fist-sized hole, perhaps large enough for a man to push an entire arm through. Gabriel quickly fell to his knees (the way his leg hit the floor made tears well up in his eyes, more than the thick black smoke had ever done) and quickly tried to look to the other side.

 

Jesse was there, just a few yards away. He wasn’t crushed under two tons of his desert home, he wasn’t blown to bits in the explosion. No, he was alive. He was fine.

 

Well, fine might’ve been an overstatement.

 

Blood oozed from his skull and forehead in thick, steady steams, and it left dark tracks down the left side of his face. If the crimson stains on the white shirt were anything to go by, there were other places that were in rough shape, too. Thankfully nothing seemed to be broken, but it was a little hard to tell from a distance.

 

The only thing that Gabriel was particularly worried about was the blood trickling out of Jesse’s open mouth, visible since his bandana had dropped back to his neck, and the obvious lack of consciousness. What if he had internal trauma? What if something was irreparably damaged? What if he was bleeding out, suffering, _dying_?

 

Gabriel called out his partner’s name for a solid two minutes before he ever got any sort of reaction (even then, there was the chance that Jesse’s hearing might’ve been completely destroyed, so perhaps he’d woken up naturally). From the other side of the rock wall, he could see Jesse’s face contorting with pain, and thanks to the SEP’s healing, he could hear the low groaning that escaped the other’s reddened lips.

 

Jesse came back to the world slowly. He was dazed, disoriented, looking confused even as he peered up at the wall that had collapsed behind him. With shaking arms, he hoisted himself into sitting position. He made no moves to stand. It wasn’t until he saw Gabriel that he started to try and rise.

 

Jesse struggled for a good few minutes. He coughing horribly as he did so, until he gave up on walking and fell back onto the ground. Crimson droplets splattered against the ground with each cough.

 

Gabriel was somewhat thankful for the way Jesse gasped for breath, though, because upon further inspection, he could see that Jesse had bitten a good chunk out of the inside of his cheek, meaning that maybe the blood he was spitting up wasn’t caused by something internal.

 

Momentary gratitude aside, Jesse seemed too out-of-balance and out of breath to do anything other than crawl over to where Gabriel was calling out for him, and as soon as he made it to the hole, Jesse reached his hand through it. Gabriel held it without hesitation.

 

“Can you hear me, Jesse?”

 

Jesse, for the longest time, didn’t answer. His hand trembled in Gabriel’s, and his breathing was so labored that Reyes was concerned that Jesse _did_ have some kind of internal damage to his lungs. When Jesse spoke up, it was a miracle his hoarse, raspy voice could be heard at all.

 

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

 

Gabriel laughed. Jesse hadn’t answered his question with that, not at all, but Gabriel was so stressed that he had no other reaction than to laugh at his partner’s dry humor.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jesse McCree,” Gabriel said. He gripped the other’s hand a little too harshly before relaxing. “You’re wounded. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig and I’m pretty damn sure you have a concussion. We need to get you out of-“

 

“No.”

 

No? Well, at least Gabriel was sure that Jesse could hear him now, but now was not the time to be arguing. They still couldn’t rule out any internal trauma. Even if that weren’t the case and the blood was just coming from his mouth, the asphyxiation from the smoke was slowly killing Jesse, and adding a concussion to the mix really wouldn’t help anything.

 

“Don’t argue with me, McCree. You’re not thinking straight.”

 

“You’re right, I’m not,” Jesse replied, “But that doesn’t change the fact that this isn’t over. I’ve got some unfinished business, and if I don’t fix that, us coming out here and getting blown to smithereens is gonna be for nothing.”

 

Before Gabriel could stop him, Jesse pulled his hand back and moved to push himself up, using the rock wall for support. He wobbled a bit and cursed as he clutched at his side. Broken ribs, Gabriel’s head supplied. He could only hope McCree didn’t have a punctured lung, or if it _was_ punctured, it was just a small portion that had collapsed, enough to be okay until it could be looked at and treated.

 

“Get out of here, go find Victor and breathe some fresh air for me,” Jesse said. Before he hobbled out of sight, he added, “Thank you for trusting me. I just... I love you. Be careful out there.”

 

And like that, he was gone.

 

Gabriel refused to just sit by while Jesse continued on in the state he was in. McCree wasn’t thinking straight, hadn’t been since that first moment in Jack’s office, and now he was running around, so vulnerable that a good kick to the chest could probably kill him.

 

Gabriel had to find some way to reach Jesse, but first, his leg.

 

With a swift, decisive movement, Gabriel took one of the boards loosened by the explosion and pulled it free, breaking it in half as best he could. Next, he took off his belt. Homemade splints had been more of Jack’s thing in the Crisis, but the one Gabriel was placing on his leg would have to do.

 

After he had fixed his splint, Gabriel forced himself off the ground and made his way to the rock wall. Was he being stubborn? Yes. Was he being stupid and reckless? Also yes, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying to help Jesse, who was equally as stubborn, stupid, and reckless.

 

Step after step, minute after minute, Gabriel made his way up to the top, and it hurt like a bitch the entire way. It felt like it hurt a lot worse when he tried to climb to the bottom. Eventually, though, he made it all the way down and started to follow Jesse’s tracks.

 

The rest of the base was still on fire. Heavy black smoke was suffocatingly thick in the air, but the path that Jesse had taken started to slope higher and higher, until finally it reached a point that Gabriel could pull himself up out of the chasm they’d been trapped in and onto the plateau. Jesse’s tracks continued there.

 

Gabriel couldn’t tell where he was, really. Everything looked vaguely familiar to him (he could see a few rocky mounds in the distance, along with a few sparse trees and the continuation/eventual end of the chasm), so he had no way to orient himself, and if it weren’t for the sounds of another explosion nearby and the fire and shrapnel that followed, Gabriel would’ve been lost.

 

It came from the end of the chasm.

 

His heart dropped, and his dread hurt tremendously more than his leg as he limped towards the noise. Jesse seemed to be a magnet for bombs, apparently. Inch after inch, Gabriel dragged himself towards the end of the canyon, and only stopped when he reached the explosion sight.

 

It was a small clearing about ten feet down, probably about fifteen feet in diameter, and was rounded off like a naturally formed animal pen. On two sides were entrances to other trails, one being the trail that Gabriel and Jesse had been following, and the other on the opposite side no doubt leading farther into the labyrinth they’d been navigating.

 

The original path was now blocked off by heavy boulders, though, most likely caused by whatever had exploded. Gabriel was glad he had chosen to go to higher ground.

 

When Gabriel observed the clearing, he could see what acted as a detonator; large red barrels full of what smelled like gasoline were placed sporadically around the place, and the few bits of vegetation, including a lone tree in the middle, were being burned alive by the one barrel that had been shot into.

 

The one who shot it had been none other than Jesse McCree.

 

Jesse, sweating profusely and breathing almost painfully hard, had clearly just entered the pen (he had obviously gone through the other entrance before coming back and shooting the barrel) as soon as Gabriel had made his way to the rim of the clearing, considering he was still in motion.

 

Jesse wasn’t the only one, though. He wasn’t alone at all.

 

Another man, one remarkably older, was in there with him, presumably being chased out during the time that Gabriel had been struggling to catch up. Both were bleeding and ready to fight; their guns were hanging threateningly from their holsters, completely willing to be used. If Gabriel stepped in now, both he and Jesse would probably be shot dead. They were too weak, and this man was not.

 

Gabriel watched as the older man grabbed one of the fallen, burning branches from the tree and slammed it straight into Jesse’s side, and it took all of Gabriel’s willpower not to jump down as his partner cried out.

 

Jesse let himself fall to the ground to put out his clothing (and if the smell was anything to go by, his skin had probably been a little cooked as well). The older man wasted no time in moving closer, almost arrogantly sure that Jesse wouldn’t get back up, and started to pull out his gun.

 

For the first time in his entire life, Gabriel was _thankful_ that Jesse had those fucking gaudy spurs. He watched as Jesse reared back and rammed one straight into the other man’s leg, and while the gun did go off, the bullet found itself lodged in McCree’s shoulder instead of his head.

 

It was Jesse’s turn to be on top.

 

As fast as he could (Gabriel noted that Jesse was still off kilter), McCree pushed himself off of the ground and slammed his fist straight into his opponent’s face; it effectively broke the other’s nose, and blood started to pour out. When the older man fell, Jesse wasted no time in crushing his boot against the other’s chest, taking Peacekeeper from her holster, and firing into the man’s leg.

 

“Fuck! Enough, son, I yield!” the man called, but it was with great reluctance that Jesse actually stepped off. He never stopped aiming Peacekeeper at the other’s head, and Gabriel could tell he nearly fired again when the man pushed himself up to sit (he was partially kneeling, sitting back on his legs to keep pressure off his thigh) and reached over to pick up his discarded hat, lost in the struggle between the two.

 

Even from under the brim of the dusty Stetson, Gabriel could see the older man’s face. Like Jesse, his skin was darkened from days spent out in the desert sun, but it wasn’t nearly as kind to him as it was to McCree. Whereas Jesse had freckles, this man had sun spots and wrinkles, causing him to appear older than he actually was.

 

This man probably had at a good thirty years on Jesse, and roughly ten years on Gabriel himself. He looked ancient. Like anything from this godforsaken desert, he was cruel and deceptively beautiful; his beauty seemed to be his personality instead of his looks, though.

 

Gabriel had seen this man’s kind before. He had seen those who carried the same confident air about them, the same charisma and compelling charm that encouraged others to follow them. It persuaded others listen to every word that was spoken, to hang off their teachings like a devil spewing gospel.

 

In many ways, this man was not unlike McCree. They both had that charisma, they shared that charm and personality, but Jesse... Jesse was kind. He used his gifts for the betterment of others, not for the pursuit of whatever twisted greed this man had radiating off of him.

 

If Gabriel had to guess who this man was, he could easily say his answer with confidence.

 

“What are you doing here, son?” the man asked. “I thought you died out in that desert that night with the others. We’ve all mourned you. _I’ve_ mourned you.”

 

Jesse’s lips curled backwards into a snarl. The blood was staining his teeth, bubbling up to trickle down his chin, and in that moment, Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear. _This_ was the embodiment of the evil that had been lurking in Jesse’s bones.

 

This man, this _creature_ , was not his Jesse, it was not the person that he had come to know and love throughout the years. This was a beast born of hatred and malicious rage. Gabriel could see now why Dakota had said the others refused to let Jesse grow stronger; now that he had, he could easily kill anything and anyone that got in his way.

 

“Don’t you _ever_ fucking call me your son again, King. Do you hear me?” Jesse had all but snapped now, spitting his blood straight in the other man’s face. It had somehow managed to get into the man’s greying hair (which Gabriel noticed was so long that it fell to the center of his back, even when it was braided). “You don’t got that right no more.”

 

So this was the infamous old King, the one that had so thoroughly driven fear into the hearts of his followers that they refused to even speak his name. It was good to have a face to the name, but Gabriel could only bring himself to hate this man more than he had to begin with.

 

“I suppose I don’t, and I apologize for doing so,” King said. “But humor an old man if you would. Tell me, why’d you come back?”

 

“You started dealing with people you shouldn’t have dealt with, and then you started to do things me and my friends didn’t agree with. You just couldn’t let the money slip away again, could you?” Jesse asked.

 

King laughed. He laughed so hard that his body trembled, and his hat almost fell off of his head again. It wasn’t necessarily bitter, like Gabriel thought it would’ve been. No, this laugh sounded almost truly amused, perhaps even fond.

 

“Money to me is like food to you, boy,” King said with an impression of patronization. “You having new ‘friends’ proves as much.”

 

The man pointed to Jesse’s dog tags, now freed from under his athletic shirt due to all of the struggles that had just occurred; the metal shined rather brightly in the sun, despite the blood and dirt staining the surface.

 

“You’re just a pup who’ll fight for whoever feeds you,” King said. “Those men, they’ve tagged you like a hound. You think you’re their equal? They _own_ you, boy. They just feed you table scraps in exchange for loyalty. I bet it’s a whole new playground for your whorish tendencies, too.”

 

“Shut up,” Jesse hissed, but despite the anger, Gabriel could hear how some of the bite had faded. It had been replaced with a very faint anguish.

 

Jesse had all the signs of a child who had been caught telling a lie, and was now trying to defend himself and prove his accuser wrong.

 

“Sex and food, that’s your price. What would your friends think if they knew just how persuadable you are? Do you think they’d still trust you? You think they’d still love you?” King asked, and Gabriel wanted nothing more than for Jesse to pull that trigger, right then and there.

 

Gabriel didn’t care if Jesse had only been loyal to his survival and primal desires at first; he knew that’s how it was in the beginning, and he didn’t expect any less.

 

He knew that Jesse didn’t care about anyone or anything, just the small pleasures in life (and really, what else could you derive pleasure from when a quick romp was your only relief from fear, from death?). He wasn’t used to ever being able to care for bigger things. It was kill or be killed, and Jesse didn’t want to die.

 

Now, though, Jesse was loyal, _truly_ loyal, and Gabriel could say that with absolute certainty. He had every opportunity to run without consequences (Gabriel had told him as much after his probation period was over), and yet he stayed. Gabriel had firm faith that Jesse would _always_ stay, but he still didn’t like King sowing the seeds of doubt.

 

“Deadlock would take you back again, Jesse. _I_ would take you back in a heartbeat. Let you feast like a prince and run around with whomever you please,” King said, and although his voice was painfully earnest, it sounded manipulative to Gabriel’s ears.

 

“I’ve know you before you were even born, boy,” he continued. “I knew I would love you as soon as your parents showed you to me.”

 

Jesse scoffed, but his face held some twisted mixture of hysteria and impassiveness. “Now you’re just pulling things out of your ass. My parents are dead and I grew up on the streets, we all know that.”

 

“Your parents were here long before you or I were,” King said. “You’ve been told before that I only took control just shy of fifteen years ago. Think about it, Jesse.”

 

And Jesse _did_ think about it; he was suddenly very, very still. He didn’t move, didn’t shake, didn’t even seem to breathe, and Gabriel was worried that his physical condition had finally caught up with him. He knew, though, that Jesse’s brain was running him into the ground.

 

Once again, Gabriel wished for nothing more except that Jesse would send a bullet straight through King’s skull, especially now that Peacekeeper was subconsciously being lowered. It left McCree in a vulnerable position, and Gabriel knew that was exactly what King was aiming for.

 

“Your mother’s name was Anne, and your father’s name was Joel. They lived on a farm just north of Santa Fe, and took you to live there safely,” King said. “Your mother ran Deadlock for years with your father at her side.”

 

He looked so sympathetically up at Jesse that it made Gabriel want to scream at the snake for his cruel tricks. There was no true sympathy at all. It was a thinly veiled attempt at satisfying greed.

 

“Deadlock is your birthright, boy. It’s all yours, if you’ll only come back to it.”

 

Gabriel watched with a broken heart as Jesse’s shoulders slumped downwards in defeat.

 

At the same time, though, Jesse seemed to tremble with some unspeakable anger, some barely contained rage that was strong enough to take on one thousand armies. Gabriel had seen that wrath before. Needless to say, he tried to steer clear of it.

 

“Really, what can your friends offer you now?” King asked. “We’ve been your family since your parents died, taken by the Crisis. They named you Joel after your father, but we turned you from a six year old orphan into _Jesse_ _McCree_ , the most valuable member of Deadlock. You should be proud, boy, because your parents certainly would be. You’ve shaken the entire West.”

 

“It don’t matter,” Jesse muttered. Gabriel could hear the pain in his partner’s voice.

 

“It does,” King said, and motioned towards Peacekeeper. “That was your mother’s gun. We found you clinging to that and your horse’s saddle blanket, which was once your father’s serape. Your heritage is here, Jesse. Let me help you discover it.”

 

Gabriel knew that whatever came out of King’s mouth was taken as the gospel truth, even now, because like the older man had said, Jesse had been in this chaos since age six. He had grown up until the age of eighteen listening to every single word that King had told him, and did everything the man had asked of him out of sheer love and respect.

 

With a slight twist of pain, Gabriel could imagine the life that Jesse had been given before King. He could see Jesse’s mother, the leader of Deadlock, so bold and brash and full of life just like her son. He could imagine Jesse’s father, a kind and gentle man, teaching his child how to ride his horse, and how to respect the natural world that Jesse had chosen to worship.

 

He could see such a glorious life for Jesse, and he could see it all being taken away in the godawful mess that was the Omnic Crisis. Maybe if Gabriel had tried harder, worked faster, then Jesse’s parents would’ve never had to succumb to death. Gabriel knew, rationally, that it wasn’t as simple as that, but it did nothing to ease his guilt in his gut.

 

"Your friends, they aren’t us. They’ve tagged you, used you, and once you outlive that usefulness, they’ll kill you. They aren’t your family, Jesse, but we are, so now you’ve got to make a decision. It’s time to decide who you really are,” King said. “What are you really gonna choose, boy? Whose side are you _really_ on?"

 

For a moment, Jesse seemed to completely give into his darkness, allowing his feelings to wash over him like a suffocating wave of smoke.

 

Gabriel, despite all of his love and trust for Jesse, felt himself mentally falter. With that once sentence, King had managed to voice the fear that Gabriel had been shoving away for three straight years. Yes, Jesse had never ran away. Yes, he had never once seemed to turn his back on his friends, his _family_ , but the question still remained.

 

Could three years of Blackwatch ever stand up to a lifetime of Deadlock?

 

Loyalty was all Jesse had ever known; he’d offered his life up twice in the pursuit of obedience and devotion, once for King and once for Gabriel. It was just a matter of who carried more sway now.

 

Jesse closed his eyes, and his hand around Peacekeeper tightened. When he opened his eyes back up, he trained his gun on King’s head with a determination so fierce that Gabriel felt ashamed of ever doubting Jesse’s fidelity.

 

“Hey, wait!” King shouted, and raised his arms up above his head. “Let’s be honorable about this. Give me a fair judgement!”

 

Jesse laughed, and the smile that graced his lips was so devastatingly cruel in its kindness.

 

“You want a fair judgment?” he asked, and King nodded his head so vehemently that Gabriel was afraid he might get whiplash.

 

King moved slowly from his position to completely kneel, as if to get up from his spot. Instead, he reached for his gun with a swift, practiced movement, and he aimed at Jesse just as fast. Without warning, a single shot rang out.

 

Blood splattered onto the ground, and a body fell quietly against the red earth. It rested peacefully, as if it were only asleep.

 

Jesse had shot first.

 

“There’s your fair judgement,” Jesse said, and lowered his gun to put into his holster.

 

Blood was streaked across his face in a way that was unmistakably from shooting at a close range (Gabriel had been subject to that before, especially since his own shotguns were so violently brutal), but Jesse didn’t seemed to mind. Hell, he didn’t even seem to notice.

 

Instead, he looked at old King coldly, appraisingly, before taking the knife Gabriel had given him before the mission out of his boot and squatting down. He grabbed the man’s braid and cut it so close to the head that the scalp was bleeding. He threw what he had cut far, far away. He didn’t look back at it once, even when it landed in one of the dying fires caused by the earlier explosion.

 

Without missing a beat, Jesse reached down and took the bloody old Stetson that had been separated from its original owner. Jesse placed it on his own head, and if Gabriel had anything to say about it, the words died in his throat long before he could ever hope to get them out.

 

 

 

——

 

 

 

“I thought I would find you out here.”

 

By the time Gabriel had managed to get down to where he knew Jesse would be hiding, his whole body was screaming at him to slow down. It protested even more when he pushed through the hole in the wall, allowing himself to stand on the rock cliff that Jesse had shown him the night before.

 

Both men were in rougher shape than their last visit to the place.

 

Gabriel’s leg was in one of Giroux’s more effective splints, which was helping SEP slowly mend his bone back together. Thankfully it had been an incomplete fracture, so his enhancements could fix the damage that had been done in a span of a few hours, just like it had done with his hearing. Considering everything that had happened, he had gotten off pretty lightly.

 

Jesse, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so lucky. His entire being had been the subject of abuse; his skin was viciously red and blistered on his left side, covered in some miracle ointment that Angela had created and given to Victor at some point. There was nothing that could be done for his mouth, and the right side of his body was bruised to hell and back from his broken ribs.

 

Their medic had confirmed that while Jesse did have a ruptured his lung, it was small enough that the trapped oxygen didn’t need to be removed and could be readily absorbed on its own.

 

As if that weren’t enough, the smoke had done a number on his poor lungs as well. Jesse had been forced to flush his sinuses (something about getting all the soot and ash out), then sat through the rest of his medical treatments with nose tubes giving him oxygen.

 

Last but not least were the stitches that Jesse had to have in his scalp. When he’d hit his head (and subsequently gotten a concussion, which Victor had confirmed), a rock had sliced into his skull and caused bleeding. Thankfully the injury on his forehead only required a bandage, as did most of rest of the cuts on his body. Some still had to be stitched, like the overly nasty bullet wound in his shoulder, but not many.

 

Despite his injuries, though, as soon as Victor had been done and was moving on to fix Kara (an escaping enemy had apparently set off a land mine close to her and Esme), Jesse had disappeared. Gabriel gave him an hour to be by himself before going to find him, and had unsurprisingly ended up hobbling back to Jesse’s outlook, where the two of them stood now.

 

Jesse himself was sitting on the ground, just like he had done the night before. The Stetson was sitting in his lap.

 

The dark brown fabric still had splatters of blood, as did the parts of Jesse’s face that Victor hadn’t bothered to clean, and Gabriel couldn’t help but think of the things he had seen.

 

Gabriel joined without a word.

 

The sun was setting. The first time he had been there, the sun had already gone down, and the constellations had been so beautiful that Gabriel was certain that nothing could’ve outshone them.

 

This view, though, had to be his favorite.

 

“Can we talk about what happened?”

 

Jesse turned up to look at Gabriel, who spoke quietly, afraid that anything too harsh would break Jesse completely.

 

McCree gave a noncommittal shrug.

 

“Which part?”

 

That was a good question. There were plenty of things that Gabriel wanted to talk about - Jesse’s parents, King’s ‘judgement’, the whole determination to kill - but those were wounds so fresh that they were still bleeding, quite literally.

 

There were some things that Gabriel knew, like how killing King would bring the end to Deadlock’s deal with Talon, but he didn’t know the events that had surrounded that death. That was how it was with most of the other subjects, too; base knowledge, but no context.

 

Still, they could talk about specifics when those wounds were more healed. Gabriel chose to settled on Jesse’s fidelity instead.

 

“Why didn’t you go back?” Gabriel asked. “You honestly had every right to. This desert, it’s your home. I took you away from that, forced you to work for me, and now we’re... well, you know.”

 

The smile Jesse gave him was genuine, but it held such bitterness that Gabriel was certain he could taste it himself.

 

“Sounds like you wanted to get rid of me,” Jesse said.

 

Gabriel’s eyes widened, and he wanted to slap himself so hard that it could knock the SEP right out of him. It really did sound like he wanted McCree to go.

 

“No! God, no, Jesse, I didn’t mean for it to- I didn’t-“

 

Jesse’s laughter cut him off.

 

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you,” he said, and gently nudged shoulders with Gabriel.

 

Jesse automatically seemed to regret that. He hissed, moving his trembling hand right above the bullet wound, not touching it, just lingering as if it could protect it.

 

Right.

 

Jesse’s body was literally one giant walking bruise. They would both have to be careful now.

 

“That brings me to my second question, which is how are you?” Gabriel asked. “I mean, aside from being half dead.”

 

“Aside from being half dead,” Jesse said, smile faltering, “I’m feeling better. Sorta, I guess.”

 

‘Sorta’ was far from what Gabriel had hoped to hear, but honestly, he didn’t expect anything different. This entire situation had to have been some kind of living hell for Jesse; killing all of his old friends, murdering his old boss, burning his old world to the ground. There was no way that someone could go through that and not feel it so deeply.

 

Jesse was no different. His head dropped, but his eyes were wide open, seeing the past so clearly but not the present he was currently in. He didn’t see where he sat, who was beside him, probably even where he was. What he saw was whatever hellish image his mind was making him see.

 

“I thought if I just- if I could... I don’t know,” he finally said. His voice was weighed down with his defeat, and his shoulders felt the same burden.

 

Maybe Jesse didn’t know how to articulate his feelings, which was fine. That was something Angela and himself were working on, to help Jesse know how to figure out and voice his thoughts and feelings. In this instance, though, Gabriel knew what he was trying to say.

 

He had lived with that exact feeling for so long it had become a friend. Jesse knew that better than anyone else. He had been there many times when Gabriel had acted on his vengeful, malicious feelings, he’d watched Gabriel lose his mind one too many times. If anyone understood Jesse’s struggle, it was him.

 

“You thought revenge would make you feel better. You thought that if you killed enough people, killed the _right_ people, then the ache in your chest would stop.”

 

Gabriel paused, turning to observe Jesse carefully.

 

“But it didn’t.”

 

With shuddering breath, Jesse nodded his head. He had taken up yanking on his dog tags when he was nervous (anything around his neck was a target, truthfully), but today, he chose to tug at his hair instead.

 

It was a rat’s nest compared to how Jesse normally kept it; it was matted down with blood and debris, a thick layer of red earth caked on every single strand. Jesse used his fingers to preen like he always did, but he seemed to hold some form of contempt as he did so.

 

“There were a lot of status symbols in Deadlock, and just around the state’s gangs in general,” Jesse started. He pulled out a splinter of wood, chucking it off the rock cliff as he placed his hands in his lap. “It became a common practice to chop off an enemy’s hair. To humiliate them, you know?”

 

“So why is yours so long?” Gabriel asked.

 

With gentle movements, Gabriel brushed his own hand through Jesse’s hair, mindful of knots and the place where he knew the stitches would be. He took to slowly picking out any rubble he could find, and Jesse was content to Gabriel groom him.

 

“You can’t cut what you can’t catch,” Jesse said. “I was just faster than the rest of them.”

 

“Smarter, too,” Gabriel added. He continued to brush as he talked. “So correct me if I’m wrong, but is that why Dakota called you a... What was it?”

 

“A long haired little bitch? Yeah, that’s why. He was always too stupid and slow, which is why his hair was a nightmare.”

 

If Gabriel were to be honest, a lot of the shit he’d been too afraid to ask about had been answered.

 

It made sense that Jesse refused to even trim his hair the first year he had been in Blackwatch, and why he refused to cut it more than an inch in the two years that followed. It was why he had been happy to receive hair care tips from Ana, too. It was a remnant of Deadlock, a subconscious reminder that Jesse was too smart and too quick to be caught. A warning to his peers.

 

Although Blackwatch didn’t really have any regulations as far as hair length or styles went (as long as his agents did their jobs, who really cared?), Jack had been adamant that Jesse get his head shaved when he first came in. He stated that it would be more sanitary, but Gabriel felt it was a show of power more than anything.

 

As such, Gabriel said that if Jack could manage to wrangle Jesse and get him to _peacefully_ go and get groomed well, then he could do whatever he wanted.

 

Later that afternoon, Gabriel had to intervene in order to keep Jesse’s teeth from tearing into Jack’s hands.

 

“Hey, Gabe?” Jesse’s voice shook Gabriel out of his thoughts, but it effectively got his attention.

 

Jesse had gently disentangled Gabriel’s fingers from his hair. He was brushing his own fingers where Gabriel’s had been, seemingly distracted by whatever was going on in his head.

 

“Do you... do you think we can cut my hair when we get home?” Jesse asked. He turned to Gabriel, dropping his hands again as he smiled.

 

“Personal revenge?”

 

“No,” Jesse said, taking Gabriel’s hand into his own. He seemed so... calm.

 

Jesse was almost at peace, in the way he looked out into the somber dusk. The stars were appearing one by one as the sun disappeared somewhere beyond the horizon, and the harshness that the light had given Jesse - his sharp cheekbones, his darkened eyes, his unforgiving features - all softened as night came rolling around.

 

Jesse no longer appeared to be some god of wrath and fire, but instead a deity that was gentle and kind. He was tired of war and bloodshed, so he offered mercy instead.

 

“Revenge won’t fix the way they hurt me, revenge won’t change what’s happened to you, either,” Jesse said. He turned to look at Gabriel, eyes shining from behind his hair.

 

“Maybe nothing ever will, but it don’t mean we can’t look for peace.” He placed a kiss on Gabriel’s cheek, then settled back into his spot. “It don’t mean we can’t change.”

 

In that moment, Gabriel had never been prouder to know the man that was Jesse McCree.

 

 

 

——

 

 

 

The next time Gabriel and Jesse were alone together, Jack was with them, and all three of them were relaxing in Gabriel’s kitchen table.

 

It had been a week after the mission, and Gabriel’s leg was basically healed. Jesse was on the mends, too, but was so sore that Angela had outright threatened both of them that if Jesse was caught training, they would both be sent to the morgue. Jack had been joking around with them about it, but Angela had threatened him, too.

 

Now they were all together, Jack eating off to the side, Gabriel holding a pair of scissors, and Jesse’s sitting with dripping hair, a towel tossed around his shoulders.

 

“Are you sure you want to-“

 

“Ask me that one more time and I’m stabbing you with Jack’s fork.”

 

All three of them laughed, and Gabriel flicked Jesse on the cheek (he had to be careful and remember which side of his mouth had been bitten), shaking his head with a smile.

 

“Excuse me for wanting to check on you, your royal highness,” Gabriel said, brushing Jesse’s hair down straight. “I really should just cut you bald for that.”

 

It was Jack’s turn to playfully kick at Gabriel. He was busying himself with shoving an entire bowl of salted watermelon into his mouth, going at it with such vigor that Gabriel was surprised he hadn’t choked yet.

 

SEP had made them both bottomless pits, which was honestly a pain in the ass, but what was so hilarious to them was that Jesse was right up there with them. The kid could eat and eat and eat (Gabriel joked that Jesse ate more than Strike Team combined), and even then he could eat a little more. It was no surprise that he’d asked Jack to share his food.

 

Every time Jack would eat a chunk of watermelon, he would offer one to Jesse, and they were easily keeping up with each other. They were about halfway done with the bowl when Gabriel shut it down.

 

“I’ll cut you bald too if you don’t stop feeding him,” Gabriel said, pointing the scissors at Jack. “He can’t move his head all that much unless he wants me to just shave him.”

 

Jack fed Jesse one more piece before the fork could be taken away, but when Gabriel started to cut away at Jesse’s hair, he chose to just feed himself for the time being. At the same time, Jack pulled out his tablet from his bag and started to play games (he had refused to do paperwork, using the excuse that he and Gabriel were both helping McCree with ‘rehabilitation’).

 

He made sure to carefully move Jesse’s new, thankfully clean hat closer to its owner as to not get watermelon on it. It was a nice hat, by all means; Jesse had even taken to decorating it with his bronze bullets (because of course he had, the flashy bastard).

 

The bronze made Gabriel remember that he had something to give to Jesse, but that would have to wait until afterwards. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

 

Strand after strand of long, soft hair fell to the floor as Jesse and Jack chatted away about small little things, which included Ana importing those Blanket Flowers and Fairy-Bells Jesse had wanted (she had done so when Jack mentioned their conversation during the mission), along with a tiny cactus. Of course Jesse had named all of them.

 

They also talked about TV shows, weapon maintenance, and even the composition of marshmallows and how they should play a game called ‘Chubby Bunny’.

 

During those conversations, presumably when Jesse was turned or was looking away, Gabriel could see Jack’s appraising glances. He could see the affection growing within his old friend, and he could see those blue eyes looking so softly, so tenderly, that it was impossible not to melt under that gaze. Thank God Jesse wasn’t looking.

 

While it made Gabriel want to take Jesse far, far away from Jack, he could understand why that look was there.

 

“All done,” Gabriel said as he put the scissors down. Jack closed out his games and moved to get the camera on his tablet, then gave it to Jesse to use as a mirror.

 

In a moment of silence, they all took a minute to appreciate just what they were looking at.

 

Jesse had never once had short hair, not since he had joined Blackwatch. It had always been notoriously long and endlessly beautiful. Hell, Fareeha honest to goodness loved his hair more than her own mother’s, simply because it was long and silky enough to braid (and Ana, God bless that woman, was always too busy to let Fareeha play with her hair).

 

Now, though, it was a different kind of beautiful.

 

Honestly, with it cut the way it was, Jesse looked roguish and lively, if not playfully endearing. When shorter, his hair was more wild; his cowlick was more noticeable, but it was in no ways unattractive. His bangs were to fixed to where they could be parted to either side, and unruly strands fell against his forehead.

 

It was probably the first time even Gabriel had gotten to see the vast majority of Jesse’s face. Sure, the kid pulled his hair back sometimes, but it would still hang almost protectively over him. Now _everything_ could be seen clearly.

 

Gabriel could feel his heart beating swiftly in his chest. Jesse’s eyes were so vibrant, so full of love and life and utter happiness that it was overwhelming. They were brighter than Gabriel’s murky brown, almost appearing to match the honeyed hue of Jesse’s voice. Mixed with his freckles and bubbling laughter, Jesse was the most charming man that Gabriel had ever seen.

 

“You like it, then?” he asked, and Jesse rapidly nodded his head, smiling as he gave Jack his tablet back.

 

“I love it! Never thought I’d enjoy having short hair, but I honestly like it better this way,” Jesse said.

 

He continued to poke and prod at his head (thankfully, Gabriel had been careful regarding his stitches), running his fingers through his hair while Jack got up to find the broom. Nobody wanted to track hair around the room.

 

While Jack cleaned, Gabriel remembered something he had nearly forgotten. He rushed about his room to find it, pointedly ignoring the questions being thrown his way by Jesse (Jack new what Gabriel was doing, and from the way Jesse was starting to grill Jack, the man had obviously started to smile).

 

After digging away in his bedside table, he pulled out the object in question and slowly made his way back to the kitchen table.

 

“What the hell, Gabe?” Jesse asked, although he wasn’t angry. He sounded more amused than anything.

 

Without another word, Gabriel presented the item he held in his hand.

 

It was small, no bigger than his palm, and it was the exact shade of bronze as the bullets on Jesse’s hat. It was roughly the shape of an arrowhead. For those who knew what they were looking at, they would be able to see the Blackwatch emblem formed in the middle, but it was vague enough that anyone outside of the organization wouldn’t know what the hell it was.

 

“It’s a gift,” Gabriel said, “I thought you deserved one at this point, all things considered.”

 

Jesse took the piece in his hands. He brushed his fingers against the cold surface with such reverence that Gabriel could be convinced it was a holy relic. He felt please to know the gift would be taken care of.

 

“Truthfully, I didn’t know what to get,” Gabriel confessed.

 

“And that’s where I came in.” Jack smiled as he dumped the last of Jesse’s hair into the trash, coming back to stand beside Gabriel. “Gabe has a piece just like it, so I thought it would be nice for you to have one, too.”

 

“And it’s... it’s really _mine_?”

 

Jesse sounded so stunned, so absolutely touched that his happiness was practically palpable. Without a warning, Jesse placed the object down on the table and surged up, and his arms wrapped so suddenly around both Gabriel and Jack that it was surprising they didn’t all fall backwards onto the floor.

 

“I... thank you. Both of you,” Jesse said. “I don’t know what I’d do without either of you.”

 

In that moment, in that one, single moment, Gabriel finally felt as if he deserved something good.

 

If the world had decided to bless him with the gift that was Jesse McCree, well, who was he to say no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you see any grammatical errors, please tell me! Also, feel free to leave a comment if you like it??? I like talking to you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Prepare for the next two chapters, lads! We’ve got some suffering to do!
> 
> (Also, on a completely unrelated note, can we just talk about how under-appreciated both Simon and Ralph are in DBH? Because THEY ARE TOO PRECIOUS)


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